


You learn to live with it...

by cicir



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 10-foot-tall papyrus, Anxiety, Demisexual! reader, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fire, Fluff, Gaster stuff, I'll add more tags as i go, M/M, Other, PTSD, PanRomantic!Reader, Possible skippable smut later, R&G are dead, Reader is not., Sans is great at flirting, Seizures, Slow Burn, firefighter papyrus, madcuddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 61,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicir/pseuds/cicir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started off in the college library, where you were stuck for 8 hours a day, reading books and surfing the internet and making friends with a bony librarian. </p><p>But things escalate fast when the Universe has bigger plans for you and the father living in your head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "book" it to the library

**Author's Note:**

> Cicir! Fighting!

“Are you sure about this, _____?” Your friend peered over at you hesitantly as you both trekked through the school campus, the sun just peeking over the square buildings. You tugged your jacket around your shoulders a bit tighter; mornings were just too cold for you. “I’m not going to be able to come see you until around 4, possibly later if the teacher doesn’t let out.” 

 

“I know,” you reiterate, a laugh escaping your lips, sound tainted by chattering teeth. “Don’t forget i’m doing school too!” You winked at him, and he let out a huff, looking away. You look ahead as well, trying to memorize the route from his car to the library you were headed to. 

 

You were already hopelessly lost. 

 

“Yes but-”

 

“I will be fine, Max.” You say shortly, rolling your eyes, “You know i don’t get bored easily. Plus, it’s better than being stuck in the house all day. It’s also not the first time I’ve done this.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah...” He mutters as you reach the front doors of what was obviously the library. He opens the door, flinching when it lets out a horrid screech, echoing across the nearly empty expanse of the library. His chest rises as he breathes in sharply, and his eyes quickly dart to you. You heard him let out a barely audible sigh when he sees you standing in place, staring at nothing.

 

You just stood there in the doorway, mind buzzing and blank. You couldn’t move, as if something had possessed you, and didn’t like like motion. You knew Max was worried, and if you could do anything about it, you would. Unfortunately, you couldn’t do anything but stand there, shivering lightly. A few moments later, the feeling receded, and your eyes tore away from the random corner they found so fascinating a moment ago. You glanced at Max, and he nodded at you. You returned the nod, and smiled. His face scrunched a bit, and he opened his mouth as to make more complaints. You gave him a pointed glare, and he thought otherwise, looking at his feet. 

 

"Are you sure about this? I can get you-"

 

"I'm fine, Max.” You interrupted, “I feel fine, I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry. Damn, it’s like you’ve never been through this before.” You rolled your eyes as you pushed him toward the door; he only grimaces before he concedes, slipping out of the library with one last guilty look. You let out a soft sigh, and shift your behemoth of a backpack to your other shoulder, giving a small smile to the librarian, who only opened one eye and nodded his bone-white head before closing his eye again. 

 

Heh. Bone-white. 

 

You turned again, facing the innards of the library when your phone rang. Your eyes shot up to the librarian, who simply re-opened his eye, and lifted a hand in a half-assed “it’s okay” wave. Huh. Must be lax about the silence rule. You quickly flipped open your phone, and rolled your eyes, turning toward the door. There, Max stood outside the glass doors, his phone to his ear. 

 

“You know there’s more than one door right?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. 

 

“Can’t risk it” He said over the phone, and then held up his keys on the other side of the glass. “If you get tired of the library, do you want my keys so you can go to the car?” 

 

You snorted. “Do you really think I’ll be able to find the car?” 

 

“Well-”

 

“It’s me.”

 

“.....” He let his arm droop a bit, and you snickered. His response to your snickering face was to hang up the phone and storm away. With one last huff, you turned around, shaking your head. You looked at the skeleton librarian again, and noticed him staring at you. 

 

You smiled guiltily, “Sorry ‘bout that...” 

 

He shrugged. “No biggie, pal. There’s no one here this early, ‘nyways.” 

 

You smiled morphed from guilty to cordial. “Ah. That explains it.” You shifted your backpack again, and then... Well, you just stood there, looking over at him. His smile didn’t change, he didn’t speak. It became a very awkward staring contest, until you finally slapped your hands on your thighs, smacked your lips, and looked away. “Well!...uhh...” You coughed slightly. “Better... get to... the books!” you smiled awkwardly now, and then quickly shuffled away, not sure if you should be offended or pleased as you heard him chuckle behind you. 

 

You found yourself a little couch settled in a corner in the library, and spread yourself out; you’d be here for a while. Computer plugged in, headphones set to some relaxing music, backpack empty and papers everywhere, you began your class-work. It was boring, sure, but it was nicer than spending an entire day in the classroom. People always looked at you funny when your head jerked to the side, or your hand started jerking back and forth. It was simply easier to be alone. 

 

You heard a soft, intelligible whisper, and involuntarily jerked your head to the left. Nothing, as always, greeted you. Maybe one day you’d stop looking, but it was almost unstoppable. You let out a soft sigh, returning to your essay on Human-Monster relations. 

 

It’s been 1 and a half years now that the monsters had joined the humans on the earth’s surface. You were surprised to find just how easily the transition was; you were expecting World War III, or blatant and rampaging racism immediately. Sure, there were racist bigots throughout the whole world, but it was nice to see that the Human Race had learned from their previous mistakes. 

 

It probably helped that the magic brought from the monsters brought about an almost instantaneous second Industrial Revolution throughout the world. Fire Magic revolutionized firefighting, Healing Magic saved more lives than any hospital ever could, washing magic (Woshua???) actually helped reverse Global Warming by cleaning even the atmosphere! It was almost like the World’s very fabric was created to sustain both Humans and Monsters, and once one was removed, Nature began to suffer. With the re-introduction of Monsters to the surface, it began to rapidly heal itself. 

 

How could Humans be angry at a race that literally magically solved all their problems? 

 

You mused over your paper for a while longer before you heard your phone ring. Sighing, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Who could be calling? Max was at school... Sammy was at work. No one else ever called you. You looked at your phone. 

 

Ah....

 

Right.... 

 

You phone was black, completely silent. No one called. You had just heard it.... again.

Sometimes, you hated seizures.

 

Letting out a soft sigh, you closed your essay, and decided to open up your Tumblr instead. You needed a break. Some laughing. 

 

A while later, you heard an odd ringing. You looked up, trying to locate the sound, but just as you looked up, it stopped. Damn your brain didn’t like you today. You let out a soft sigh, shifting a bit and swallowing, returning to your Tumblr. 

 

Whatever. You were used to it. It’s been a year and a half you’ve suffered from seizures. Hearing things. Legs and arms twitching uncontrollably. Catalepsy. Your doctors told you that, even though you’ve never had a Grand Mal, you still had enough seizures to be unable to drive. Enough to be frustrating and annoying. 

 

It was weird. Your family had no history of Epilepsy, but here you are, twitching and hearing things. It confused the doctors; they couldn’t find anything that could create your seizures. No anomalies in your MRI’s, no head trauma, no severe life changes that could suddenly instigate it. It just.... happened.

________________

_______________

 

Sans was used to people being at the library for varying amounts of time. 2 minutes to print something, 1 hour between classes, 1-3 hours for studying. Normally, they either came alone or in large groups; they came alone to study silently at one of the computers or with books, never smiling or laughing. They came in groups to study or to hang out, laughing and talking as they did their do. So, it was around the 3d hour of watching you, completely alone, but obviously not studying, that his curiosity began. 

 

You were within his eyeshot for the entire time you were there. Sometimes, you were on your computer, laughing at god-knows what. Sometimes, you had curled yourself up on the corner of the couch you had claimed as your own with a book. A few times, he saw you look up, and glance around, eyebrows pulled together, obviously upset. He saw you let out a sigh, and go back to your activities, eyebrows slowly relaxing again as you immersed yourself in clearly entertaining mediums. He knew that look like he knew the carpals in his hand. Loneliness. “I feel ya, bud,” He whispered every time he saw your face twist into sadness. Sometimes you just sat there staring at nothing, almost like you were zoning out, but a bit more... severe? He wasn’t sure. Maybe he was reading into it too much. Other times, he watched you as your head whipped around as if you’d heard something, only to pause for a moment, confused, before returning to your book. Now THAT worried him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to hear things: whispers of his name, random static that no one else heard, the Core’s rumbling. Gaster had been a part of his everyday life whether he wanted him to or not, and yet nothing that Gaster sent his way ever helped him get any closer to the scientist. But maybe.... 

 

Gaster or no Gaster, by the time his lunch break came around, he had made up his mind. He clocked out with a word to his boss, who only grunted in reply (typical of the old man: Sans mused that he and Grillby would get along very well), and moseyed his way to the back office/ break room. He grabbed the tupperware container with his name scrawled across it, and didn’t even bother to heat it up before scarfing it down. 3 minutes and a few wet-wipes later, he was shuffling back into the library, and over to your little corner. 

 

You didn’t look over until he had flopped onto the couch, jumping at the sudden movement of pillows. “Hey pal.” He said with a lazy wave. You blinked a few times before looking back and forth a few times between him and her stuff. 

 

“Oh shoot!” You mumbled quickly, slamming your laptop closed and reaching out for your bag. “I’m sorry, did I stay too long?” You crammed your laptop into your backpack, and his eyes widened slightly. “I’ll leave right now! How selfish of me to take up a cou-” 

 

“Woah hey hold on there pal,” He sat up straight, placing a hand on your shoulder for a moment. You paused, looking up at him. “It’s not like that.” He spoke. “I was just... You were just... You’ve been here for so long, I was wondering what you were..uhh... up? To...” Shit. This went a lot smoother in his head. Sure, he had spoken to a lot of humans before, but it was normally of a student-to-librarian-he-was-above-them kind of way. This whole peer-to-peer thing was harder than it looked! He had had this job for almost half a year now, but the positives of being a librarian are that you don’t have to talk to people much. Great for a quiet and lazy skeleton like him. And just like him to ruin his perfectly cool streak by getting curious about the doings of a random (albeit kinda pretty) lady innocently relaxing during his hours. 

 

You giggled a bit, leaning back from quickly packing now. “What, are you on your lunch or something?” You questioned, raising an accusatory eyebrow. Sans relaxed a bit, glad his blundering didn’t ruin the conversation. 

 

“What? A man’s gotta eat! Else I’d be skin and bones!” He winked, and you snorted, rolling your eyes, before looking down at your watch. 

 

“Is it that time already?” You asked, surprised as you looked at the time. Sans noticed the pretty shitty quality of the watch: One of those convenience-store plastic ones with barely even a button on the side. It contrasted the bracelet you wore right next to it, which was what looked like a gorgeous silver chain holding a silver placard. It looked like it said something, but the placard was turned away from him, and his curiousity did not beat his need to  **NOT** ruin his chances of talking to you by tilting his head into your lap to read it. “Oh wow I didn’t even realize...” You trailed off, glancing at your backpack. “I should probably eat lunch.” you said, more to yourself more than to him. He shifted, facing you a bit more. 

 

“I already ate, but if you’d like, I can walk you to the cafeteria,” He offered, and you looked up at him, narrowing your eyes. Was he flirting? Or just being nice... “I remember when you came in forever ago that you said something about... getting lost?” Oh okay just being nice. You think. Whatever. 

 

“Sure!” you say, reaching down to pack your stuff again. “I could use some company!” His smile grew, and he stood, offering a hand to you. You took it, and he couldn’t help but be surprised at how they felt. 

 

They were so... rough...

 


	2. It's kinda forked up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortcuts, eating, and Sans' First Seizure!  
> Also You're not dumb, but you take a time to get some puns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay guys. Some Seizure Info as to not confuse you.  
> Some seizures consist of shaking and zoning out.  
> You are almost always completely spent after a seizure, like you want to just fall asleep right there.  
> Some seizures consist of just repeating words like a broken recorder. it FUCKING sucks. Just saying. It does. Like. Seriously. I hate it so much.

“Well, I used to be a blacksmith, actually!” 

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah, but I had to quit a while ago, so now I work with wood instead. Sandpaper and clumsiness will do a number on your hands,” You laugh, looking down at your hands. You weren’t sure if you prided yourself or were embarrassed by the scars of your hobbies. Probably prided. Most definitely prided. You thought about the atrocities you had made a year and a half ago. Splintered squares, broken boxes, one half-carved shitty-ass hand with a wooden knot straight in the palm. Simply poor planning on your part, you defended. “It looked cool though!” you told yourself.... Yeah you had a tendency to lie to yourself.... You couldn’t get rid of the hand, though. It was the first real sculpture you made!

 

“Makes sense. I guess your hobby  _ splintered _ into something else, huh?” He mused, his smile widening. You nodded your head, scuffing your feet on the sidewalk. You had just left the library a few moments ago, sun warming the top of your head. By now, the cold of the morning had faded away, and you appreciated the sun caressing your skin. You followed Sans as he guided you around the twists and turns of the campus, in the direction you hoped was the cafeteria. He turned back to you, giving you an odd smile, almost insinuative. You blinked at him, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“What?” you questioned. 

 

“Splintered?” He repeated, his smile growing a bit wider, eye...bones... raising. You blinked again. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“You know- like splinters in woo- You know?” He let out a sigh, face deflating a bit. “Never mind.” He turned forward again, and you paused.

 

... What the fuck? 

 

You dismissed it as he took a turn around one of the buildings, and you sped up to keep up with his quick steps. As you turned the corner, the smell of sweet, delicious food assailed your nostrils. You let out a soft sigh, looking around. The inside of the cafeteria was a beautiful place. Tables spread about, windows revealing a gorgeous forest view, a wide open kitchen. You could feel a smile tugging at your lips, and you let it spread across your face. 

 

Sans, once again, turned to you with an expectant glance. “So, you like my shortcut?” He asked, pulling your attention from the chefs cooking what was soon going to be in your belly, and met eyes with him. His smile was practically the definition of prideful and smug. You paused, thinking for a moment. Shortcu-

 

You were inside the cafeteria. You were outside and turning a corner just 3 seconds ago. How did you-

 

Sans laughed out loud at your slack-jawed mouth, scrunched eyebrows, and slit eyes. Your gaze flicked to his snickering face, and you quickly put two and two together. 

 

“Magic?” you inquired. 

 

“Magic.” Sans confirmed. With your question answered, you nodded and dismissed the thought, following your nose to food. 

Sans paused. That was it? That was your response? Just “Magic?” 

Well. That was... different.... and kind of disappointing...

 

After finding the melted cheese and toasted tomato of freshly made lasagna, you snagged your piece, dipped in your wallet, and then tucked yourself in the corner of the cafeteria, Sans following slowly behind. You took your first bite of lasagna, and let out a sigh of contentment, leaning back and relaxing in your chair. eliciting a chuckle from your Skeleton friend. 

 

“Cheese, you must really like that lasagna.” He said, leaning back in his chair as well as he smiled at himself. 

 

“It’s so good!” You almost moaned as you finished your first bite, quickly shoving the second into your mouth. Sans chuckles again, and the table falls silent for a while as you revel in your deliciousness, and Sans closed his eyes. 

 

Finally, “So how long have you been a librarian?” You asked, placing your fork on your now empty plate, leaning forward till your elbows rested on the wooden table. Sans eye sockets clicked open now, and he addressed you. 

 

“Oh about 6 months now.” He replied, resting his hands behind his head and stretching a bit. “It’s nice, but the hours can be so long, I feel kinda  _ booked _ .” he smiled a bit, and  _ this time _ , you snort. “What about you? I haven’t seen you at the library before.” 

 

“Oh I mostly study at home. I don’t like going out much, but every once in awhile,  I want- I want- I want- a change of pace.” You smile, picturing your little library corner. It was comfortable, quiet, and much nicer than the little 500 square foot studio you rented. “Plus, who could beat the smell of old books?” You laughed, and Sans nodded knowingly. 

 

“Do you always come by your _ smellf _ though?” he asked, raising an “eyebrow.” You cracked a small smile. 

 

“Yeah mostly. Friends. Friends. Friends drop me off in the morning, and I spend the whole day there.When they finish their school work, they take me home.” You picked up your fork, licking it, even though you already had. DIsappointed, you drop the fork onto your plate.

 

It clinks louder than you expected it to, and much louder than your brain liked. From its vicinity, panning across the inside of your head, you felt a vibration shake your brain. Your head fell back, eyes wide, and you froze. The world became infinitely confusing as Sans spoke. If you could understand what he was saying, you would try to respond. But apparently, he was speaking a different language, as was everyone else in the room. You couldn’t understand a word. 

 

You could feel your head rocking back and forth, your arms jerking up and down. You could tell based just on tonation that Sans was worried, but you still could not understand his words. You felt like you should understand him, like every word was on the tip of your tongue, but just weren’t there. Pressure built in your head, worse and worse, until just as fast as it grew...

 

It disappeared. 

 

You fell still, revelling in the almost post-orgasmic calm, deciding to handle the skeleton that was frantically hovering over you in just a few moments. 

 

“Kid? Kid! Can you hear me? Are you-”

 

“Shhhhhhh” You whispered, closing your eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath. Sans fell silent, hands outstretched toward you, just hovering there, unsure what to do. After a few moments, you decide you should placate some of his worry. “Sit down, Skeleton, I’m fine,” You state, and his hands drop to his sides. Eyes still closed, you hear the skittering of his chair as he pulls it out, and sits down. 

 

A few more moments pass before you finally open your eyes, lift your head, and look at him. 

 

His pupils are tiny, shoulders practically touching his ears, and worry- Was it worry? You don’t think he’s known you long enough to  _ truly _ worry... Maybe it was the fact that he had no idea what to do...- painted across his face. 

 

“Is that... Normal?” He asked, hands clenching and unclenching on the table, eyes flitting from your face to your arms. You let out a slightly labored sigh; you were always tired after one of the larger seizures. The Doctors told you that was normal, but it didn’t make you hate it any less. 

 

“Yeah-well... no?” You paused. Sans was a monster, which probably meant he didn’t quite understand human... anatomy? “It’s not. Not. Not. Not. Not...” Your speaking breaks off for a moment, and you let out an annoyed huff of air, waiting for your brain to stop being a broken recorder (Those were the smallest seizures, but you found them the most annoying, to be honest)... “sorry...” You apologize, and he looks at you with scrunched eyebrows. You continue as if it didn’t happen “It’s not normal for most humans, but for some, it's a regular occurrence.” You explained, “I have something called Epilepsy, which means that the electrical balance on one hal-” You stopped, blinking a few times at his twisted expression. “I mean... My brain... doesn’t quite work right. Work right. Work right. Work right (Huff)... Sorry... The wires from one part to another kinda...suck?” You look apologetically up at Sans, hoping your explanation made some sense. The librarian nodded, face rather quickly slipping back into his neutral smile. Your own contorted face followed suit: Life was easier when people understood you. 

 

“So you just have to live with this?” He asked, reaching over to your plate, and grabbing your fork. You looked at his hands as they retreated back to his side of the table, and began fiddling with the tines. 

 

“I have medication to help me. Help me. Help me. Help me....Sorry...” Your eyes flicked up to Sans’, and he waved a hand dismissively. You smiled. “but I guess i’m stuck. i’m stuck. i’m stuck. with it.... It’s not normally this bad, but after one seizure, sometimes i have a cluster.” 

 

“Ah.” Sans says, raising the fork above the table, tines facing downward. He dropped the fork, and you flinched, expecting the sound of the tines hitting the table again. Instead, the fork rested half a centimeter above the wooden table, glowing slightly blue. You blinked, then looked up at Sans, whose smug-ass grin almost turned your stomach. You let out a small laugh. 

 

“You like showing off, don’cha?” 

 

“Just for pretty ladies.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes. 

 

“Oh please.” You scoffed. 

 

“What?” He asked, the fork now spinning upright, the tines touching his fingers. 

 

“I’ve only known you for... what... 30 minutes? And I can almost bet money that you’d show off to anyone who struck your fancy.” His eyebrows raised, and you realized your statement. “PLATONICALLY!” 

 

He smirked. “Well.. anyone  _ could _ strike my fancy, but I understand what you mean, and i assure you,” He winked again, “You’re special. And i’m saying that in a very pandering way.” 

 

You laughed again. This guy was funny. Maybe you’ve made a new friend? 

 

“I like you.” You said simply, nodding your head. “Let’s be friends.” He let out a deep chuckle. 

 

“Well. I don’t think i’ve ever been asked to be a friend before; Normally, it just kinda  _ happened _ , but sure. I’ll be friends with you. 

 

“Great!” You almost yelled, slamming your hands onto the table, and then almost immediately pulling your hand back with a sharp intake of breath. 

 

Sans leaned forward quickly. “Woah, you alright, bud?” He asked as you cradled your finger. 

 

“Yeah yeah, I just got a splint-” Your eyes went wide as something dawned on you. You looked up at Sans, a smile spreading across your face despite the pain in your finger. “Splinter!” You laughed. Sans looked at you like you were crazy, but you only chuckled a bit more. “My hobby  _ splintered  _ into another!” 

 

He blinked a few times. 

 

“You know... like wood!” 

 

He blinked a few times more. 

 

“I get it now!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll give you guys a hint and a game. 
> 
> Can anyone tell me what words were repeated in this chapter? In order? 
> 
> Leave em' in the comments. (and any errors, if ya' see em :)


	3. If you gotta go, you gotta go, ya know?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max is a spaz. Mega uber spaz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for your support! 
> 
> THINGS WILL START SPEEDING UP A BIT AFTER THE NEXT 2 CHAPTERS I PROMISE! i know the last two chapters have literally been one day, but don't worry things will get a bit speedier as we go on. 
> 
> if you like the pace that it's at (which I doubt anyone would with how slow it's going) Let me know in the comments!

Sans was still laughing. 

 

It had been over 5 minutes of chortles and chuckles, and despite your pouts and hollers, Sans couldn’t stop. 

 

“It took... You... 30 minutes... to get one pun!” He laughed aloud for the 7th time, and you let out an exasperated sigh. 

 

“Yes! I’m a little slow sometimes. We already made that point.” You looked up at the sky, dragging your feet along. You and your new skele-friend were walking back to the library, you with a full belly but lacking a fork, sans still lacking a stomach, but gaining a fork. 

 

The story behind that was simple. You had asked for your fork back, Sans had refused. You attempted to manhandle it back, and he ate it. 

 

Literally ate it. Put it in his mouth, closed his teeth, opened his mouth, and it was gone. 

 

After staring at his teeth for a while in consternation, you finally (and once again) chalked it off as magic, and pouted. Soon after, you left for the library again, your boney friend following close behind. 

 

The walk back to the library was much longer without a shortcut, and you attempted to memorize the way to the cafeteria. After two turns, you were utterly lost, and gave up. Oh well. Sans laughed at you as you turned around a few times with a baffled look on your face. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and began walking ahead of you, leading you in the direction you, once again, hoped was the correct way. Head drooped in resignation, you followed. 

 

You reached the library in a timely manner, and followed Sans through the double doors, stopping only when you reached the intersection between your little hidey-hole, and his station at the front desk. You stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then looked up at him. 

 

“Well I’m going to get back to work,” He drawled, and you let out an awkward laugh. 

 

“Right.” You said, kicking the ground a little bit. Silences and separations were always awkward for you. ‘Specially this one, since you weren’t really saying goodbye. You would literally be about 20 feet away for the next 4 hours, so a goodbye would be kinda... not... required for this situation? You let out a soft chuckle at your thought process, and looked up at the skeleton, who hadn’t moved yet, and was now giving you a pretty confused look. “Sorry, Sorry,” You lifted your hands, shaking them guiltily, “I was just thinking about what I was supposed to say right there... since i’m just gonna be on the couch... over there...” You pulled at your ear for a moment, wincing. Sans just chuckled, and raised an eyebrow, as if waiting to see where you would go. You silently resented him for not providing you an out before you floundered. “sssooooo...”

 

“Sofa so good, pal, keep trying.” He winked. You glared at him, did an about face, and stomped to the couch, flopping on it with a pout. You looked over to the front desk to check and see if he was watching. He had sat down, feet propped up on the desk, and eyes closed. You let out a small huff at his antics, but a smile soon creeped onto your lips, and you let it go, unpacking and getting comfortable once again. 

 

The remaining hours passed by quickly, and you were doodling on some homework absentmindedly when you heard the unmistakeable clamour that always followed where Max went. 

 

“Sorry sorry sorry!” He tried to whisper to Sans as the library door slammed behind him. He whipped around quickly to look for you, his backpack slamming into the wall behind him, causing him to wince at the /very/ loud sound. You let out a soft chuckle, and began to pack up, still listening to Max’s rampage. 

 

“Hey.” He reached the front desk, and leaned against it, an awkward smile on his face. “Uhh, Hi. I uhh.. I, uhh, dropped someone off earlier today.. y’know, in the morning. And.. Uhh... Well I’m here to pick them up... Have you, perchance, seen someo-” 

 

“They’re over there,” Sans pointed in your direction, halting Max’s flustered rambling. Max once again whipped around, slamming his backpack into the desk, and his eyes lit up when he saw you. You had just finished packing up, and gave him a little half wave as you stood. He rushed over to you, backpack bouncing up and down as he practically galloped down the aisle. He stopped in front of you, and held his backpack straps. 

 

“You ready to go?” He asked, and you nodded in response, picking up your bag and tossing it over your shoulder. “Great!” He practically yelled, and then paused, holding up a hand. “Wait. Hold on. I gotta dump.” And with that, he galloped off. You let out a small snort as you walked up to the front desk, leaning against it. 

 

“So where’d your elephant go?” Sans asked, and you laughed. 

 

“Yeah, he does sound like that, doesn’t he?” You mused, and then threw a side glance at Sans. A lazy smile and one open eye greeted you, and you raised an eyebrow. He closed his eye, leaning back a bit. “He’s going to the bathroom. It’s a bit of a drive to get back into our \neighborhood.” You explained, letting out a soft yawn, and shifting your bag. “‘bout a 45 minute drive, give or take depending on traffic. He’s always gotta go before we gotta go, ya’ know?” You turned to him with a wide smile, proud of yourself. He opened his eyes and let out a soft chuckle. 

 

“No, actually,” He smirks, and you realize he doesn’t have a digestive system. Your face glows as you let out a soft cough. 

 

“Ah... r-right...” You look away, and he lets out a mirthful laugh, tossing his head back and hollering. You shoot him a look, and can’t help smile at him as the chair almost topples over, and he quickly flails his arms and rights himself. 

 

He wipes under his eye as if he were crying (??), and lets out a contented sigh. “Sorry, bud, sorry, that was just-- your reaction was priceless!” He chuckled a bit more, and you are positive your face looked like a summer tomato. 

 

“Shush!” You mumble, and he lets out one last huff before tossing his elbows on the desk, propping his head up and looking at you. 

 

“Fine. Fine. Fine.” He smiled easily, “Am I going to see you again, or was this a one-time deal?” He questions, and your eyes practically light up. 

 

You lean forward against the desk and raise an eyebrow, “What, you gonna get lonely without your new friend?” You now waggle your eyebrows, and his smile widens. 

 

“Patell’in the truth, I’d feel empty without you,” He retorts. You quickly concede defeat, and reach over the desk, plucking a pen from the corner, and then grabbing his hand. His eyes fill with confusion as you pull his hand toward you, and he leans forward to give you more leeway. You uncap the pen with your teeth, and quickly jot your phone number on the top of his hand, the scratching of pen against bone grating against your ears. 

 

Your head filled with cotton almost immediately, and the pen shook in your tight grasp as you began to shake. The pen tapped against Sans’ hand as you tremored, three quick taps, one right after another. Sans looked up at you now, worry painting his face. 

 

You might have noticed if your mind wasn’t a little pre-occupied. Your head began to jerk from left to right as your pen-ridden hand began to flail up and down. Once, twice, three times the pen slashed against San’s hand. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it left three long and definite lines on his ulna before the pen was knocked out of your hand by the force of your flailing arm. Sans quickly stood, grabbing you by the shoulders, attempting to hold you still. He missed your hand tapping quickly on the table, three short taps before you fell completely still again. 

 

“______” He spoke softly, eyes darting over your features for any sign of recognition. You heard his voice. You heard your name, but you could not respond. The world just didn’t quite make sense. Your eyes unfocused, your peripherals disappeared, and your entire body buzzed with energy you couldn’t chanel, couldn’t explain, couldn’t release. The energy kept building until it was almost unbearable, like you had to move, had to jerk, had to shake rattle and roll until it was all gone, but you were still paralyzed. Even then, the energy kept coming, overwhelming your senses until your entire brain seemed to shut down, short-circuiting. 

 

With one last full-body tense, you dropped. Sans, still holding onto your shoulders, yelped at the sudden drop of weight, and attempted to keep you upright. At the awkward angle he was at, he fell across the desk until he was practically lying across it. He had dropped you (or at least let go of your shoulders and watched your body disappear over the ledge of the desk), and quickly stood up from the desk, and sprinted around it, dropping to the floor once he reached you. 

 

Your eyes were open flitting around as they took in the scene in front of you. Sans realized once you made eye contact with him that you were back, and he let out a soft sigh. It was completely silent for a few counts before you closed your eyes, bringing your hand to cover your face. 

 

“I’m....sorry,” you almost whispered, completely exhausted. “That....” You labored, throat choking on almost every word, “must have freaked you out...” 

 

Sans let out a relieved laugh, and leaned against the desk with his back. “Well, if we’re gonna be friends, I guess i’ve gotta get used to this.” 

 

You froze up, shoulders getting tense, and your eyes prickling. You choked down the 

tears, and let out a stuttering “Y-yeah...” 

 

Sans looked down, “You alright, bud?”

 

“Yeah!” You quickly responded, maybe too fast for your liking, and then let out a soft sigh. “I’m just tired...” 

 

That wasn’t technically a lie. 

 

It wasn’t technically the truth either...

 

“Help me get up before Max sees me?” You asked, opening your eyes again. Sans looked down at you, and nodded, shifting around till he was standing, holding his hand out to you. You took it. 

 

“Why do you gotta get up before Ma-”

 

“OH MY GOD ________ ARE YOU OKAY!?!?!” 

 

“....oh.” 

 

Max had literally sprinted from the bathroom to you, dropping to the floor and skidding across the carpet to reach you, hands already outstretched to grasp at your shoulders, rattling you a bit with the impact. His hands ran up and down your arms, eyes frantically searching what felt like every inch of your body for damage. Upon finding nothing, he let out a heavy sigh of relief, shoulders visibly relaxing. You rolled your eyes, reaching up to the desk and using it to lift yourself up. 

 

“Max. We’ve been through this song and dance so many times. You’re acting like I fell on a bed of knives!” You accused him as you righted yourself and reached for your bag. Sans stood as well, bringing your bag with him, and handing it to you. You gave him a soft nod as thanks, and then almost jumped out of your skin as Max literally jumped from the ground to 

standing. 

 

“Yes yes yes but you can-”

 

“Never be too careful, I know i know.” You felt like your eyes were in perpetual rolling motion with Max sometimes, but his worry for your condition was so overboard, you couldn’t help it! 

 

“Did you take you-”

 

“Max. In all the times that you’ve asked me if I took my medication, how many times have I said no?” 

 

“....”

 

“How many?” 

 

“...0...” 

 

“That’s right.” You lifted a hand and placed it on his shoulder, your eyes shining in mock motherly concern. “So, honey, why do you keep asking?” You shook your head with a small “tsk,” and smiled a bit at Max’s guilty head-droop and Sans’ snort of laughter. You lifted your hand from Max, and let out a chuckle of your own. “You ready to go?” Max quickly recovered from his shame, and nodded at you with a smile. “Well then let’s go!” You said, and Max nodded, turning toward the door. You followed quickly, only to be stopped by a bony hand around your wrist. You turned to face your new friend, who was looking at the ground. 

 

“So hey... will I see you around the library again?” He asked, looking at you questioningly, a mix of emotions that you could not hope to understand painted across his face. 

 

Instead of trying to decipher the look of hope, shyness, and... was that curiosity?... across his face, you just smiled. “Well, based on Max and Sam’s schedules, and my hatred of my own home, I’m gueeeesssing yes...” You gave him a bit of a shrug and a coy smile, taking your wrist back from his hand, and turning to catch up with Max. 

 

Sans listened to you passively agree to Max’s raves about the hike you and him were about to embark on, repeating “oh cool, uh-huh, great” as he explained all the different features of the new path he found. Your conversation was cut off with the shutting of the double-doors, leaving Sans to stand in the wakes of silence that always followed Max’s departure. 

 

With wakes of silence came waves of thought, though, and Sans couldn’t help but look at his hand. Your phone number was haphazardly written there, with only the last digit missing. Huh. Well... Shit. Guess 9 people are going to be getting weird puns from a stranger... 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah! I've got chapter 4 in the works right now. 'bout 1500 words so far. We get to learn more about Reader and their living and stuff! Also i've got some ideas for the future n stuff, and wanted to ask a question.  
> Tell me in the comments if you want any "monster hate" stuff goin' on. Like, raves or hate crimes or anything like that. I'm leaning in both directions, but wanted to know what flavor my audience wanted. Some are sick of it, and just want monster friends to be happy, some want to see suffering. So, let me know! 
> 
> Also, I made the puzzle in this chapter pretty easy, I think. But if you want a hint (as in you can't see or get it) then here it is!! What happened when Reader gave Sans their number?


	4. He fell for her. Well. More for her house. Well. More for the SIZE of her house...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More friendly introductions, some movies, some bananas, and some miscalculations that cause Sans to scream like a little girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I've been stuck in my house with a cold for a while, so I wrote another thing! Yay for kinda speedy updates! So this chapter went a little faster than the other 3. I got at least an entire 14 hours worth of time in this one chapter! HOLY SHIT!!! 
> 
> So there's no puzzle this chapter, sorry guys. Reader just didn't have a seizure. That happens sometimes! But hopefully there is a little more funny stuff, and some building n shit. 
> 
> also. Google Bonfire Banana. Be amazed. Just saying.  
> *a day later and no comments about Bonfire Bananas*  
> Guys. k

____________

New Message Received:

*knock knock

-.....Who's there?????

*bone

-........Bone....Who??

*bone’cha wanna have my number too?

-uhh... no? Who is this? 

*... sorry. Wrong number. I guess that wasn’t the 1. 

____________

 

On your way home after the (long and gruesome) hike, you learned you would be visiting the library every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, 8 hours each time. Max would take you on Tuesday and Friday, Sams on Thursday. You were pretty stoked to say the least. The library was calm, quiet, and pretty... Sansational... Much better than your house, you could admit. 

You stepped through the front door, kicking off your shoes into the pile to the left, and then walked across the nearly empty space, dragging your socked-feet across the old, tiled floor. Your apartment (you refused to call it a home) was a whopping 350 square feet, complete with one twin sized bed and a night-stand riddled with books, papers, and pills, one desk with a little lamp and space for a computer, a box next to it overflowing with papers from all your previous classes, one bathroom and one kitchenette (fridge, stove, sink, and a plug-in microwave you had to buy yourself from craigslist). Everything was so close together, you could reach your desk from the end of your bed, and your kitchen was 3 steps from your desk. Your bathroom was the epitome of luxury; one rusting sink, one old barely flushable toilet, and a shower whose size was so small, you thought it should be illegal. The window was about the size of half your arm, and so crusty you couldn’t even open it. The entire little room smelled faintly of mold, and you were sure it wasn’t good for your health. 

It was all you could afford on your measly wage part-time job and your Disability (which demanded that you had no more than 15-20 hours a week, no matter if you received disability pay or not; which you did, thank heavens). Tiny size and terrible maintenance made this place almost affordable, but it was the neighborhood that finally made it in your price range. 

In fact, you were one of 3 humans living in this area of town at all. Sure, monsters were given all the rights of humans on account of the technology and magic they offered for the good of Human-err... People-anity.... ???.... but that did not stop the inherent fear that humans held against things they did not know. Therefore, the more monsters lived in an area, the more the property value dropped. 

This provided you an amazing opportunity to snag a little place of your own, despite the poor maintenance (The landowner saw no point in taking care of a place that provided so little profit) and size (whatever! You were one person! You could totally live in this... totally...), and smell (okay, that one was probably your fault... But that goddamn window!). 

  
  
  


__________

New Message Received

*knock knock

-Oh Ha Ha James. Now you’re getting your friends to text me? That’s low, even for someone as sickly and disgusting as you. Seriously, just fuck off already! I don’t want to see you ever again, no matter how “funny” you think this is. 

*oh no not you 2...

-Me too? Me TOO? What, are you saying that there’s more than one that you’re apologizing to? ooohhh boy James you’re one SICK fuck! Crawl up your own ass and DIE, okay? Fuck you!

*wrong number, i swear. also James sounds like a total ass. sorry you’re going through...whatever you’re going through. 

-Oh. 

-Well.

-Sorry for exploding on you. 

...

...

...

-Can I ask for some romantic advice?

*no

__________

You were terrified when you first moved in; your neighbors were a literal alligator and a monster made of 90% teeth! But when the alligator gave you, “like, a makeover,” and the tooth monster gobbled the giant cake you offered in one literal bite, making “om nom nom” sounds all throughout in a comically (and you’re pretty sure intentional) cookie-monster voice, your fear was quickly washed away. Plus, both their houses were so much bigger and so much cleaner than yours (You learned your little apartment was kinda just shoved between theirs to make up for some space planning errors. Just your luck, you guess... Also: Magic made up for poor maintenance so much better than scrubbing and elbow grease and tears did).

So, as you look back, you can admit that you could have been in a much worse position. Despite the shitty living situation your wallet has put you in, you still have great neighbors, a roof over your head, and food in you belly. 

It’s better than a poke in the eye with a stick, at least. 

...

You think... 

____________

New Message Received

*knock knock

-Come in! 

*.... sorry, I didn’t  _ three _ that coming... now I don’t have a good joke... 

-Oh that’s alright! May I ask who this is? Sorry, I guess I don’t have you in my phone DX

*heh. that’d be scary if you did. i’m a pretty cool guy, but i’m not that  _ sans _ ational. 

-.... I Don’t... What? I don’t get it... 

*... wrong number sorry. 

-Is your name Sans? 

-I think I get the joke! Ha Ha That’s funny! Hehehehe. OMG You’re so funny! Wanna hang out some time? We would, like, be great friends, ya’ know? I’m good at puns too! I’m pretty Punny! Punderful! Puntastic!

*no.

_____________

You flop onto your bed, dropping your bag next to you and stretching your legs. You let out a sigh of relief as your aching body finally got a bit of a rest. Rolling onto your side, you closed your eyes, mind almost immediately drifting to your new skele-friend. You smiled a bit, thinking of his little grin, his smirk, his jokes. His reactions to your seizures were better than most; much less crazy, thank god. He was calm, relaxed, a breath of fresh air. And for some reason, you felt inexplicably pulled to him. Maybe you were destined to be friends. 

You smiled at the thought. A third friend! Wow, you were lucky. It had only been Sams and Max for the longest time. Sams and Max, Max and Sams, Samsicals and Maximus. Yeah, they were both great friends; Max with his hikes and energy, and Sams with their movie binges and their random “LET'S GO PARTYING YOU NEED TO GET LAID!” phone calls (you never got laid at those parties... You didn’t really want to, either. Just saying... but shit Sams found the way to catch the most gorgeous people, it wasn’t fair.) But adding someone else to hang out would be nice. Someone who maybe wasn't as high energy. Someone who could relax and go at the pace you more enjoyed: Not 100 miles an hour. Someone a lot like Sans, you thought. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. Speak of the Devil, and he shall come. That’s how that phrase goes, right? 

*knock knock

You couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across your face as you quickly typed an answer back, and then erased it, then typed another, then erased it again. Finally giving up, you just sent a simple one. 

-Sans?

You waited with baited breath for almost a minute before your phone buzzed again. Your fingers floundered a bit as you hit the button to unlock the screen. 

*well i’m glad i got the right number, but i think it would be 4 the best if you continued the joke

-haha you dork. Okay. Who’s there? 

*femur

-Femur who?

*do you have a femur? cuz you look pretty hot to me. 

Ktch. You looked down at your current clothing. Paint coated sweats, a dirty shirt that was at least 3 sizes too big, and only one sock. Right. Hot. 

-.... that was pretty lame. Also if you saw me right now, you’d probably take that comment back. Can’t even make that joke ironically right now <.<

*i thought it was good.

-doesn’t matter what you think. I’m the receiver of the joke. 

*so?

-So I get to choose!

*says who?

-.... touche. Touche. 

*you spelled touch wrong ;)

You let out an exasperated moan, flopping your head back, and accidentally hitting the wall. You grimaced, lifting your head a bit, and letting out a small moan. You heard shifting in the apartment that you shared walls with, and heard a soft voice asking if you were okay. You always pondered about that; how could a person whose head was  _ literally _ all mouth have a quiet voice. You hollered back a quick “Yeah I’m fine, sorry did I wake you?” before you returned to your phone. 

-.... Nevermind sorry you have the wrong number. Who is this? Sans? I don’t know someone by that name. 

*c’mon babe don’t be like that

-Hey. I’m not your babe, pal. 

*i’m not your pal, buddy. 

-I’m not your buddy, friend. 

You heard a muffled response from your neighbor telling you that you didn’t, in fact, wake them. You smiled, responding with an exaggerated sigh of relief, and then waited for a response. You heard the footsteps of your neighbor crossing their apartment, and the squeak of their chair as they sat at their computer desk on the other side of the wall.  Your phone buzzed. 

*I’m not your friend, missy. 

-Oh. Well fine then :(

You smirked at your snarky response before you heard your neighbor speak again; they were obviously right next to the wall now, voice clear as a muffled bell. “You wanna come over? I just made cake.” 

Your head snapped up, eyes wide now. “Hell yes i’ll come over! Why do you even ask?” You jumped from your bed, moaning only a little at your rickety bones (heh). “You make the best cakes, Tooth! You want me to grab Bratty too?” Your phone buzzed, but you ignored it, hopping over your bed to grab your shoes. Your phone buzzed again. At Tooth’s grunt of approval, you smiled, pulling your shoes on and walking over to your desk. You quickly knocked three times on the wall behind your desk, and waited. After a few moments...

“Like, yeah? What’s up?”

“Tooth made cake!” You almost shouted in excitement, and you heard the immediate response of a chair squeaking across the floor and clattering of items. Your phone buzzed. 

“Like, seriously? So coool!!! I’m totally, like, joining in on that! Give me a moment!” You heard Bratty excitedly blabber, and you nodded in agreement, quickly exiting your apartment and closing the door. 

No locks. Well, you had locks, but you didn’t use them. Monsters never stole shit. Plus, it was easier for your clutzy, forgetful self. Keys were a thing that you often forgot. You did a little u-turn in the hallway, and opened Tooth’s apartment door, hustling over to Tooth and sweeping them up in a hug. 

“Hey there buddy! How ya doin? I’m doing good. Where’s the cake?” You quickly spat out, jokingly sweeping your head back and forth, as if searching for the cake. Tooth let out a laugh, and pushed you off of them. You were sure if they had eyes, they’d be rolling them. Instead, they just pointed toward their kitchen, and you smiled, flopping onto their computer desk. “C’mon Tooth you know by now that I love you almost as much as your cake.” You winked as the door opened again, and Bratty waltzed in with a bag over her arm. You raised an eyebrow, and her mouth curled up into the second largest smile you’ve ever seen Tooth takes the cake.... heh... cake. That wasn’t even intentional. Sans would be proud... Speaking of Sans, you’re sure he’s texted you at least 6 times now. You reached down for your phone, but was quickly distracted by a cd-case whacking you in the face. It clattered to the ground, and you saw the movie title: Monty Python and the Holy Grail. You looked up to see Bratty still smiling, holding up another Monty Python movie, and your smile quickly mirrored hers. 

“Cake and Python?” 

“Cake and Python!” Bratty almost shouted, and Tooth let out a little hoot of excitement, jumping out of their chair to go grab the customary 200 blankets and 50 bags of popcorn, chocolate, and fixin’s for bonfire bananas (This argument has happened many times, stating that there was no bonfire, so having bananas of such a delicious calibur was blasphemous, but you always lost. They were just too good. Too good.) 

Bratty set up the blanket fort as you set up the TV. When Tooth returned with all the fixin’s, and the cake, obviously, you cuddled up with your friends, turned on the movies, and spent almost the entire night in stitches of laughter. You fell asleep in a bundle of scales, teeth, and smiles. 

Your phone, though, was still awake, but completely forgotten. 

*no wait

*c’mon you knew i was joking

*we’re friends still, right?

\--Missed call from XXX-XXX-XXXX--

*bud?

*kid?

*______?

\--Missed call from XXX-XXX-XXXX--

*shit did i hit a chord i wasn’t supposed to?

*i’m sorry i was just joking

*_____?

*are you okay? are you having a seizure?

\--Missed call from XXX-XXX-XXXX--

*C’mon kid speak to me. 

(At least an hour passed before the next text)

*alright. well, for my own sanity, i’m going to assume you’re not dead, and just busy, or asleep or something. text me when you get a chance. 

\--Missed call from XXX-XXX-XXXX--

*alright alright i’m chill i’m chill. text me or something. i’m chill. i’m chill. 

\--missed call from XXX-XXX-XXXX--

*not a worried bone in my body. 

 

____________________

____________________

____________________

 

The next morning, after you helped recover the disaster that was Tooth’s living room, you returned to your own shit sanctuary, yawning and checking your phone as you re-did your little u-turn to your house (still not a fuckin’ home).

Dead.

Sighing, you plugged it into the port next to your desk, and retreated to your moldy excuse for a shower. What was today, anyway? Friday? Saturday? Meh whatever you had both days off anyway. Finishing your shower quickly, you threw on some different grub clothes, and flopped to your computer desk, turning on your now at-least-a-little charged phone. 

HOLY  SHIT! 19 NOTIFICATIONS! Jesus! 

You read through all of Sans’ texts, and let out a not-so-soft sigh. So there goes the “not as worried about seizures” theory. 

You called him. 

“....... Hello?” 

“Hey Sans it’s me.” You answered when you heard sleepy voice. You checked the time: 11AM. “Wow. you’re a bit of a lazy-bones ain’tcha?” You mocked, pulling your computer from it’s bag and setting it on your desk. 

“It’s hard to sleep when you don’t have eyelids.” He quipped back, and you paused, eyes wide. Huh. You guess that would be a bit of a problem... wait. 

“Liar! I’ve seen you blink before!” 

“Damn. I guess you  _ saw _ right through me.” He answered almost immediately, and you paused, knowing you walked right into that one. You fell silent, lips pursed tight. The phone call was quiet for about 15 seconds before you heard a quiet response, “Sorry.” He said, his voice sounding not-so-sorry. You could almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face. You let out a little snort, and leaned onto your desk, opening your computer and hitting the power button. 

“Forgiven.” You said, letting out a small yawn as you watched the spinning circle on your screen. “So what got your panties in a bunch last night anyway?” You pondered if he even wore panties, but figured it wasn’t a very socially acceptable question to ask. 

“Well that would be slightly hard to do since i don’t wear panties, but whatevs.” He mocked, and you wondered for a second if he could read your mind. “I was worried about my new  _ friend _ .” He emphasized, and you let out a laugh. 

“Do you really think I took offense to that?” 

“How the hell was I supposed to know? I only just met you yesterday! For all i know, you could take things very seizure-esly.” 

“.... I hate you.” 

“Was that seizure-es?” 

“I hate you!” 

“Was THAT-”

“SHUTUP!” You yelled out between laughter, smacking your face with your hand. The phone fell silent, and you wiped your hand across your face, and let it drop to your desk, muttering slightly. Sans had yet to talk, and the silence slowly grew awkward (at least on your part. Sans was sitting on the couch in his house with a smug grin, wondering when you were going to realize he had “shut up”). Finally, you let out a small cough, wondering if you were going to regret the next sentence you were about to say. “So.. what are you doing today?” 

“Shutting up.” 

“...huh?”

“You told me to shu- *sigh* nevermind. I’m not doing anything today.” 

“Cool... cool..” 

“Yeah almost Icy cool.” he interjected, and you muttered another “i hate you” before you continued. 

“Wanna hang out today? I’ve got nothing to do today either. Finished all my homework last night.” 

“Yeah sure gimme your address I’ll come over.” He drawled, and you sputtered before letting out a nervous laugh. 

“I don’t know if you wanna come over here, my house is a little small...” you pursed your lips again, playing with the hem of your shirt as you looked around the embarrassment of a living quarters. 

“It’ll be worth it to see you.” He said, waggling the eyebrows you couldn’t see through the phone. You let out a disbelieving laugh. 

“You haven’t seen my digs.” You countered. 

“Well then how can I know?” He asked, his voice mischievous. You paused for a moment, and finally nodded your head. 

“Touche.” You said, “Touche.” 

“You spelled touch wrong.” You could hear the wink in his voice, and deliberately (but with much effort) ignored him before giving him your address. 

“Three three two Flame Street, apartment Two-forty-one and a half.” 

“A Half?” 

“Don’t ask. You’ll understand when you get here.” 

“Alright then. I guess i’ll  _ half _ to wait.” He, once again, waggled his eyebrows, and you, once again, saw none of it. 

“Yeah. How long till you get here?” you finally logged onto your computer, and opened your music files. 

“Probably not that long. What do you want me to do when I get there?” He asked. You put your music on shuffle, and stood, pressing the phone between your shoulder and your ear and heading to your bedside table. You grabbed your seizure pill and downed it, no water. You’re such a badass. And in 20 minutes (once your big blue pill kicked in), you’d be a much safer badass. 

“Oh just knock, and i’ll-”

*knock knock knock* Your head whipped around, hand grabbing your phone so it didn’t drop, and stared at your door as if it were possessed. Your jaw dropped, and you glared at it for a little over a moment. If you payed close attention, you could hear San’s barely contained snickers. You swallowed. 

“....Sans?” 

“Yeah?” You could hear the echo of his voice coming from his phone, and right outside your door. Your eyes tightened a bit, and you took a small breath in before you pulled your phone from your ear...

And hung up. 

“Aww. Come on bud don’t be like that.” You heard his muffled voice call from the other side of the door. You walked around your bed, closer to the door, but stayed a bit away from it, not sure if you should be surprised, pouting, or feel like an idiot. He teleported when you were at the Campus. Why didn’t you expect it now?

“C’mon. Open the door.” He mocked, knocking again, and you pouted a bit. 

“If you’re so special with your fancy magic, open it yourself!” you crossed your arms, suddenly realizing the door was unlocked, so your threat (if you could call it that) was completely empty. 

That did not, though, stop him from  taking the challenge. 

He let out a laughing response “I don’t need to open it.” He reminded you, and then envisioned the other side of the door. These apartments looked kinda ritzy from the outside, although run-down, so he assumed that the floorplan was relatively large. Maybe 1200 square feet? So if he wanted to teleport right in front of her face, he’d have to teleport about.... 

With that knowledge, he let his magic flow around him, and blinked out of existence. 

Only to blink back into existence outside of the entire building, 3 stories up, and facing the window where he could see you staring at the door accusingly. Time stood still for a few moments as he stared into your tiny house, realizing his calculations were a  _ little _ off... 

And then he fell. 

Now, Sans had never screamed before. He was not one TO scream. Cool, collected, someone who let life’s toils go right through him. Enough passes with Frisk had taught him how to let things slide. He was pretty sure nothing could rattle him anymore. Note to Sans: Falling through the air is  **much different** than facing a dust-covered mass murderer hell bent on sinking their knife into your sternum. Sans’ wouldn’t say it was scarier. Just.... different. And while he was prepared for knifes and dust and dodging and time shenanigans... he was not quite ready for this. 

So when he did fall, and when he did scream (bloody murder, if I might add), it scared even him. 

He would have seen you whip around in fright and surprise if he wasn’t a little busy flailing and falling to what might be his doom (or at least more than a few broken bones). He would have seen you run to the window and lean your head out if he wasn’t trying vehemently to remember how magic worked. He would have heard you scream his name in panic if he hadn't suddenly remembered that teleportation was a thing, and blinked out of existence. 

He blinked back into existence with a thunderous crack about 3 feet above your computer desk, and, keeping the momentum he had already picked up, slammed into it with enough force to snap your computer in half, and break one of the legs of your computer desk, sending him careening onto the floor and slamming into your wall. 

You jolted back from the window and whipped around at the 4 very loud sounds, and then felt the thunderous vibrations tearing through your head. You froze. 

Sans, meanwhile, let out a moan as he sat up, magic heavily coursing through his body, humming in his head, and whispering warnings into his ears. He encouraged it to calm down as he caught his breath, and attempted to let out a light-hearted laugh. “Well. That did not go as plann-” He was interrupted by another thud, and his eyes shot over to you. 

You, as well, had fallen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER I'M SORRY I'M SO SORRY. 
> 
> also. Love for Monty Python? Me. I do. Do you?  
> And. Cookie Monster Tooth. I'm on a ROLLL  
> And. Them phone calls. yes. I like this chapter, if I do say so myself. I say so.
> 
> also, would anyone be interested in a Grillby/reader fanfic? I've got an idea, but was just wondering.
> 
> *Update* GUYS! Bonfire. Bananas.


	5. Shake what yo' momma gave you (i'm so sorry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can do the worm! (i'm so sorry. I'm sooo sorry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really bad seizure coming up. Just a warning. 
> 
> I started the Grillby/reader fanfic, I think most of you know already :)
> 
> and THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT THROUGHOUT! SO MANY KUDOS! SO MANY HITS! SO MANY COMMENTS! I love you guys!
> 
> I'm pretty stoked for the fast update time, but I may have made some errors. If ya' see em, just tell me? Thanks!

You were tired. So tired. You could drop straight into slumber right at this moment if it weren’t for the strange yet familiar face hovering a few inches from your eyes. You tried to concentrate on his features, but it was almost as if your mind refused to acknowledge his existence. He was there, but he was not. You could see him, you could read the worried and guilty expression etched in his face, but you could not comprehend his face. Even while looking straight at it, it was if you just could not remember.  He lifted a hand,and brushed it across your face. Where his fingers brushed your face, your skin tingled; the almost electric feeling webbed from his  touch throughout your body, causing your muscles to tense up and your back to curl. You opened your mouth to let out a complaint, but no sound came. 

 

Sorrow overcame his face, and his fingers retreated, breaking contact. He held his hand out in front of you, and you could still see his face despite his hand covering your eyes. When he moved his hand away, though, all you saw was red. 

 

Red that flickered. Red that burned. Red and orange and blue hues that licked at your face, leaving pained streaks across your cheeks and tainting your heart with terror. 

 

Fire. 

 

FIRE! 

 

Now you could scream. And scream you did, sound ripping from your throat in hoarse cries; bloody murder could not compare to the warbling screeches of terror that tore from your mouth, scaring away even the fire until the only thing you could see was the face again, staring at you in panic at your ongoing screams. 

 

“...id! Kid!” 

 

No... that wasn’t the face. That wasn’t... The world was too dull to understand. 

 

“Kid! Come on! Come back to me. oh shit oh shit what do i do what do i do!?” The face snapped away from you as the world faded in more, but still made no sense.  You could see shapes, things that you knew you should know what they were, but just..couldn’t... You attempted to move, but your limbs did not listen, still frozen solid and quivering threateningly. You attempted to stop screaming, but your voice seemed to have other plans. 

 

You heard a slamming sound, and the face in front of you spoke again. 

 

“Help! Please! She won’t respond!” He sounded panick-SANS! That was Sans! Sans was calling for help! Like a word on the tip of your tongue suddenly springing from your lips, understanding of your surroundings clicked back into place. That was Sans. You were on the ground in your house, you were having a seizure. Sans was worried. More voices were in your room now. You panicked in the recesses of your mind, fear gripping you tighter than you ever had before. You couldn’t control your body! You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop screaming. Your calf muscles spasmed without your consent, and your entire body was so tense, your back was curled off the ground, held up by your shaking shoulder blades and quivering neck. 

 

“Sans. Calm down. I’m training to be a doctor. How long has it been?” Bratty. Quick footsteps, and then the alligator was in your line of vision, her eyes worried yet all business. You attempted to look over at her to show her you were not all gone. but your eyes had other plans, still staring at nothing. 

 

“I don’t know, a minute?” Sans replied, looking at you again. Your eyes suddenly darted to him, and you fell silent, and he gave you a hopeful look. You yourself felt hopeful as well. Maybe your seizure was over? You gulped in one breath, just one...

 

And began screaming again. 

 

“FUCK please! Call 911!” 

 

“No don’t do that.” Bratty said calmly, and Sans shot an incredulous look at her. 

“SHE’S IN PAIN!” he yelled over your screams, pulling out his phone. 

 

You fell silent again, tears now streaming down your face. You didn’t tell yourself to cry; it just happened. But now.. Your body suddenly collapsed onto the ground, and you could feel your mind connecting with your limbs and lungs again. You coughed immediately, and then gasped for air. Your heart pounded in your ears as you curled up into a ball, coughing and sputtering for breath. 

 

“There she is.” Bratty calmly said, and knelt next to you, resting one hand on your knee. 

Sans nearly dropped his phone at the change, and was hovering over you again, hands barely brushing your shoulders as he looked you over. Your eyes darted around the room as you tried to calm yourself down. You were not about to have a panic attack right after a seizure. Nope. Not gonna do that. Not gonna-

 

You burst into tears again, letting out a wailing sound of terror as you broke down, hugging your knees to your chest and choking on your sobs. You felt a hand on your shoulder now- slightly colder than a normal hand, but not freezing. A second rested right above your knee, next to Bratty’s hand. 

 

“Hey. Hey. _____. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Sans spoke softly but quickly, awkwardly stroking your shoulder as you sobbed. He let you sob for a while longer, both he and Bratty just softly comforting you. It wasn’t till your arms relaxed slightly from the death-grip that you had on your legs that Sans spoke up again. “Damn,” He whistled lowly, attempting a cool tone as his voice still wobbled a bit. “If I had known you had such mad break-dancing skills, I would have invited you to more parties.” Your soft sobs were interrupted by a sputtering snort, and your leaned your head back slightly, staring at the light above you, heart still hammering. 

 

“You got The Worm down pat. I mean, it’s a little different, but your new style could be groundbreaking.” He continued, his voice calming down a bit as he saw the placated look on your face. Your eyes darted to him with a “seriously” look, and he shrugged. Your agitation faded away quickly, and you let half of a small smile tug at your lips. He returned the favor with a twitch of a smile. 

 

“what’s  _ shaking _ , toots?” He asked, waggling an eyebrow, and you let out a real laugh this time, coughing only once as you lifted your arm to wipe your face on your sleeve. Once you had cleaned your face a bit, you dropped your head back to the floor, and you let out an exhausted huff of air. 

 

Bratty, who was previously silent, shifted now. She patted your knee twice, and you looked at her. “Medication?” She simply asked, and you nodded. “When.” she clarified, and you winced. That was as much of an answer as she needed, and she let out a huff. “Like. You gotta be more careful about this stuff, ya’ know? That could have done, like, some serious damage!” 

 

“Yeah, I know,” You said softly, surprised at just how hoarse your voice was. Bratty seemed placated by this, and stood. 

 

“Let’s, like, get you to your bed, alright? I’m guessing you’re, like, super pooped!” She said, and scooped you up in her arms, carrying you the 3 feet to your bed. Sans stood as well, following awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs and watching the amazon sized woman drop you onto your mess of a bed. She turned to Sans now, and you let your eyes drift shut. 

 

Red.

 

Your eyes flickered open again, a shiver running down your spine. You felt like you had forgotten something important, and you didn’t feel comfortable in your bed anymore. Almost antsy. 

 

“You, like, watch over her, okay? I’m gonna, like, be late for my date!!” 

 

“uh.”

 

“Okay byeeeeee!!!” Bratty almost yelled, completely out of her “nurse” mode as she gallopped out of your apartment, the door swinging shut behind her. It was silent for a few more moments before you felt your bed sink slightly under Sans’ weight. You looked over at him, blinking a few times. 

 

“so, uh, are you exhausted?” He questioned, seeming like the worst fish out of water you had ever seen. You let an amused smile tickle your lips. 

 

“Yeah. I’m pretty tired.” You admitted, shifting and stretching your completely exhausted muscles and cricketty bones. You spoke slowly, almost as if each word you spoke was pained. You were just so tired, and you were trying so hard to not sound like a stuttering idiot. You blinked, a small idea popping into your head. “Tired... to the bone.” You drawled, lazily raising eyebrow. He looked over at you, and you were slightly disappointed at his forced grin. Aww. 

“Too soon?” You pondered, and he mirrored you in response. “Sorry...” You looked away. Silence enveloped the room again. 

“So... should I leave so you can slee-”

“no.” You said before he could finish his sentence, and his head shot toward you, an eyebrow raised in question. “I...” You paused, your stomach upside down at the thought of him leaving you here. You opened your mouth to ask him to stay. 

“I can’t stay here.” You said instead, shocking even yourself. Your head seemed to faze out for a moment, filling with the feeling your head got when you yawned. You took a breath in, as if you could retract your sentence, but it was too late. Why did you even say that? 

“You can’t?” He questioned, voice sounding curious.... or was that skeptical? You couldn’t tell. 

“I, uhh.” You tried to explain the sentence even you didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t completely untrue: You did not want to be here right now. You felt like it was not safe, for some reason. Not safe to be alone? You chalked it up to that. “I dunno. Maybe I shouldn’t be alone right now? And I don’t really wanna be home anyway...” You tried to explain, trailing off at the end, looking up at him guiltily. 

 

He simply shrugged. “alright.” he drawled. “you can come over to my house for the day, if you want.” You beamed a relieved and thankful smile at his response, expression softening from the tension it held all day, eyes melting as they looked at him. Sans froze. 

 

That smile felt like it was created simply and only for him to see. 

 

You would have seen the light brushing of blue across his cheeks if you hadn’t ducked over the side of the bed, letting your upper half hang over the edge as you reached under your bed. “Lemme just get some stuff.” You said, reaching for your collection of paper bags. You grabbed three, and pulled them out, wiggling your way back onto the bed and opening each. 

 

...

 

Why did you grab three? You weren’t bringing /that/ much stuff. You paused for a moment, only moving again when Sans seemed to snap out of a stupor and look at you. You returned the glance, and shrugged a bit, tossing two of the bags back under the bed. 

Your head buzzed again, but only briefly. You ignored it as you walked around your apartment, grabbing some items. Your computer bag. Some books. A few writing utensils. Your stuffed animal from childhood. 

 

Wait. 

 

You paused, holding your beloved koala over the almost full bag. Why were you bringing your koala? You never brought it anywhere. It stayed on your bed by your pillow. You blinked a few times, and thought about just tossing it back onto your bed. 

 

You put it in the bag. 

 

What? 

 

You thought that you should take it out and put it on your bed again, but you simply did not want to. It was if something in your mind simply said “no,” and you guessed it was more determined than you. At least in this moment... You were tired. Shrugging, you grabbed the bag and your computer bag, and looked at Sans, who had been fiddling with the corner of your comforter. 

 

“Ready when you are.” You nodded pointedly, and he looked up at you. 

 

“cool.” He lifted himself from the bed, standing right in front of you, only inches away. He seemed to smirk as he got even closer. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment, but you quickly shooed away your nerves. Personal Space could go suck a dick for all you cared. Your nonchalant response to his invasion seemed to disappoint him, and you marked that as a minor victory against his sense of humor. That is until he quickly closed the space between you and him, pulling you into a giant bear-hug, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

 

You let out an ungraceful “uhh” before you heard his voice rumble against your shoulder and front. “Hold on tight, kay?” You paused, and then took a small breath, tentatively wrapping your arms around him as well. “Tighter,” He directed, and you tighten your grip on him. You could feel his ribs against your chest, and his heat emanate across your front. Huh. His hands were cool, but it seemed his body was warm. Could skeletons have poor circulation problems? You smiled at your passing thought as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Who knew a skeleton could give such a good hug. 

 

You practically forgot the reason you were hugging him in the first place as you lost yourself in the comfort of his arms around you, your heart settling down and your shoulders fully relaxing. You inhaled softly, and let out a relaxing sigh, agreeing with something deep in your mind that it had been too long since you’ve felt like you were where you belonged...

 

Wait.

 

Your eyes clicked open at the thought that maybe wasn’t fully yours (or at least you refused to admit that it was), and were only slightly surprised when you focused on a room that wasn’t your apartment. 

 

Right. You were hugging to do his magical teleport thingy. You looked around for a moment from your position in Sans’ arms, acknowledging the soft blue walls, the open kitchen to your left, the beautiful living room to your front, and a hallway to your right, undoubtedly leading to bedrooms. You pulled away from Sans now, holding him at arm's length to look him up and down with a wide grin. 

 

“Has anyone told you that you give the best hugs?” You asked, smile only growing wider. He shrugged. 

 

“I guess I get a lot of practice.” He reasoned, and you shot him a confused glance. “You’ll understand later,” He waved it off, and turned around, walking toward the couch. “You still exhausted, right? You can take a quick nap on the couch if you want to. No one’s home right now, so it won’t be weird.”

 

“Oh. Uhh. Yeah.” You answered, walking in and dropping your bags next to the couch, quickly flopping into the cushions. 

 

oh...

 

Oh!

 

“Holy shit.” 

 

“Soft?”

 

“Am I lying on angel wings?” 

 

“Close enough, yeah. My friend Toriel got that for me as a “coming up” gift. It’s laced with magic to keep it soft.” 

 

“It’s mine now.” You nodded, and he looked over at you. 

 

“Oh?” He crossed his arms at you, and you looked at him with a set face. 

 

“Yes. I’m taking it. It’s mine.” 

 

“No you’re not.”

 

“Well. I’m not taking it from your house, per say, but It is now absolutely mine. You can still have it in your house, and do with it whatever you will, but you just need to remember that it belongs to your friend of 2 days.” 

 

“So we’re friends again?”

 

“.... Can I have this couch?”

 

“Under your set rules, yes.”

 

“Then yes.” 

 

Sans joined you on the couch, opening a book and wiggling a bit to get comfortable. “I see you only want me for my couch.” He accused, and you simply nodded your head in response, drawing a deep chuckle from him. You responded with a small chuckle of your own before your curled up into the corner of the couch and closed your eyes. You were not quite sure if you’d be able to wake up from a nap on this heaven of a sofa, but at this moment, you didn’t really care. 

 

Especially because you were asleep before you even finished that last thought. 

_________________

_________________

“....MAN!” you shifted a bit, mumbling before you quickly relaxed again. “....UMAN!” you let out a grumble, and rolled over a bit, half opening your eyes. Holy fu-

 

“HUMAN!” the face in front of you whispered. Or at least it was a whisper. It was more just raspy yelling, like stage whispering but louder. Your eyes were fully open now, ears ringing at the sudden change in volume. “OH GOOD YOU ARE AWAKE!” well. You guessed the creature in front of you actually WAS whispering before, because his voice just tripled in volume, making you jump nearly 2 feet into the air. You would have hit the person in front of you if they hadn’t have moved, still yelling as they trounced across the living room, hand resting on their chest valiantly. “MY BROTHER TOLD ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THAT THERE WAS A NEW HUMAN SLEEPING ON OUR COUCH!” he whipped around, pointing at you. You were  _ officially _ completely awake, staring at the very loud skeleton now gesturing toward you. Well. He was definitely  _ taller _ than Sans. He towered over you as you sat on the couch (rubbing your eyes a bit and sitting fully up now, glancing around for just a moment to see if you could find your more properly sized skeleton), and he practically  _ dwarfed _ you! Shit, how did he even fit through the  _ door _ ? 

 

“SANS DID NOT, THOUGH, TELL ME THAT THE HUMAN RESIDING ON OUR DESIGNATED TV WATCHING STATION WAS SO GORGEOUS!” He stated almost accusingly, as if your...uhh... gorgeousness... was a crime against humanity. 

 

Either way, you blushed, embarrassed yet pleased. “Oh, uhh, thank yo-”

 

“NOT ANYWHERE NEAR MY CALIBER OF ATTRACTIVE MASTERY, HUMAN, BUT I GIVE YOU KUDOS FOR YOUR VALIANT EFFORT!” 

 

Aaaaand there it goes. Should you be offended? You don’t think so. A compliment is a compliment, right? You scratched your head, tilting it to the side a bit. “Thank...you?” You questioned. 

 

“YOU ARE MOST WELCOME!” The Great Papyrus responded, nearly vaulting himself from where he stood to the couch, making you bounce a few inches into the air. “I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” he thrust out a hand to you, and you took it tentatively, not surprised when he shook it up and down with much vigor. If you had any knots in your shoulder, he probably just removed them. “MAY I ASK YOU FOR YOUR TITLE, HUMAN?” he asked, eyes glittering with unbridled joy and curiosity. Okay. Yeah. You could love this guy. 

 

You raised an eyebrow for a moment, and then took in a large breath, preparing to return his enthusiasm. You practically yelled your introduction: “I am the ALL POWERFUL _________” You lifted your hands and flexed, looking up to the sky with purpose. Papyrus gasped in surprise, and then giddily clapped at your introduction, drawing your head from the sky to look at him with a pleased smile. You dropped your pose with a laugh, shifting on the couch till you properly faced who you could only assume was Sans’ brother. He mentioned a brother before, right? Hell if you knew. 

 

You could take things in stride. 

 

“NEAT-O! I HAVE YET TO MEET ANOTHER PERSON WITH SUCH A GRAND TITLE! WE SHOULD MAKE A CLUB!” 

 

You could  _ try _ to take things in stride. 

 

“nah bro, she’s already in the pun club with me, it’s pretty great to meet another punderful person like myself” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts, and you turned. Sans had walked into the room from the kitchen, holding a 1/4th eaten hot-dog and a lazy grin. You shot him a thankful grin at his bail-out (You knew from the 30 seconds that you knew Papyrus that he was 100% not joking about the club), and he winked at you, taking another bite out of his hot-dog. 

 

“NOOOO!!!” Papyrus flopped backward, taking up the rest of the couch and then some, throwing his hands above his head. They touched the floor.  _ Fuck _ how tall was this guy! You barely took up a fourth of the couch, and he was flopped over the rest, his upper back hanging over the other arm-rest, head flopped and hands splayed across the carpet. You tried to ignore it, but....  _ good lord!  _ “I HAVE CHANGED MY MIND! YOU MAY NOT BE IN A CLUB WITH ME! MY NO GOOD BROTHER HAS ALREADY CORRUPTED YOU!” 

 

“that was the plan all along.”

 

“AND NOW I HAVE LOST A FRIEND!!” wait. What?

 

“Hold on, Great Papyrus.” You said, holding up your hands. “I can accept that we are friends by my association with your brother.” You stated. It was probably easier to just accept friendship from this behemoth, but you were not against it one bit. In fact, “But it would make me sad to lose a new friend so quickly!” You faltered for a moment, thinking, “Especially one as  _ great _ as you!” 

 

You nearly jumped out of your skin (You seemed to be a lot of jumping around this skeleton) when Papyrus swung his body up from his flopped position, wrapped his arms around you in a death grip, and stood, pulling you up from the couch and swinging you around, your feet luckily swinging  _ over _ the tv rather than straight into it. “WOWIE! A NEW FRIEND! YES, ______ I SHALL STAY YOUR FRIEND! HOW COULD I NOT BE FRIENDS WITH SOMEONE WITH A TITLE NEARLY AS GREAT AS MINE!” He continued to swing you around until your head was positively spinning, still babbling excitedly. You would have laughed if he wasn’t crushing your lungs. Instead, you just huffed quietly until Papyrus fluidly placed your feet on the ground, hands slapped on your shoulders(your ENTIRE shoulder: How could someone be this big??) as he looked you in the face. You tried to return his powerful gaze, but now that you had breath, you couldn’t stop the giggling as the world spun. Your head swung back and forth as you tried to focus your eyes, but no such thing was happening. “HUMAN?” Papyrus questioned, watching you with curiosity and concern. 

 

Suddenly, Papyrus’s hands were gone, as was the rest of his body, replaced by Sans, who was clutching your arms and staring into your eyes. “_____?” he questioned, panic in his eyes, holding you tighter as you swayed back and forth a bit. (You could hear Papyrus in the background yelling about the hot-dog that splattered onto the floor)

 

“I’m good! I’m good!” you quickly responded through giggles, understanding his worry. “Just dizzy, I promise!” His face relaxed a bit, and his grip loosened (and tightened again when you swayed a bit too much to the left). He shot you a half-believing look, and you smiled goofily at him as an answer. Placated, he let you go. 

 

Bad idea. 

 

You giggled again as you fell forward, swinging your arms over his shoulders for support. He jumped a bit, stumbling a bit under your weight before catching you. “woah kid, you tryin’ to rattle my bones, or jump them? Make a decision.” He chuckled, and you weakly slapped his back with a noodle arm. 

 

“Shush i’m dizzy gimme a moment,” You threatened. A moment later, as promised, you stood up straight, and began to pull away from Sans. He didn’t let go, tightening his arms around you a bit. “Hey.” You mumbled, pulling back a bit. He followed, still hugging you. “Hey!” You complained, flailing your arms a bit, trying to find purchase on his shoulders to push him away. He clung tighter, chuckling a bit. 

 

“Sorry bud, but this hug is just so  _ koala _ t,” he drawled. You should have taken that as foreshadowing to his next move, but you unfortunately did not. He lifted his legs, and wrapped them around your waist, causing you to yelp and flail forward, just barely catching yourself. You whined a bit at the weight, but still chuckled at the predicament you seemed to be placed in. 

 

“SANS! WHILE I APPRECIATE A GOOD HUG, YOU SHOULD NOT TAINT THEM WITH YOUR TERRIBLE PUNS!” 

 

“aw c’mon bro, you know you want some of this action.” oh. oh no. 

 

“oh no. No no no no” You voiced, whipping your head around to face Papyrus, whose eyes were practically made of glitter by now. You couldn’t support Papyrus’s weight. You were barely holding up Sans! And Papyrus was  _ easily _ twice your size. He was almost twice  _ Sans’s  _ size! You were 5 foot 3, Sans 5’4, which meant Papyrus had to be at least 9 or 10 feet tall! 

 

“...... I CANNOT DENY MY JOY FOR LARGE HUGS!” Papyrus exclaimed, and you  squealed, hobbling away from the skeleton as best you could with a Sans on your front. You didn’t make it far before you felt a second set of arms around you. You prepared to be crushed by the larger skeleton’s weight, but instead, you were lifted off the ground. Papyrus lifted you off the ground and swung you from left to right a bit, letting out the almost necessary “MMMMMM!” that a good bear-hug needed. When Papyrus dropped you, Sans let go too and you stumbled for a moment but quickly gathered yourself, another laugh escaping your lips. “GREAT HUG, GUYS! I SHALL GO CHECK ON THE FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI NOW!”

 

“I thought it was new human spaghetti.”

 

“IT’S FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI NOW!”

 

“so they’re the same.”

 

“SANS! DO NOT QUESTION MY SPAGHETTI EXPERTISE! THEY ARE VERY MUCH DIFFERENT EVEN IF THEY REQUIRE THE SAME INGREDIENTS IN THE SAME QUANTITIES!”

 

“ok bro.” Sans shrugged as Papyrus scurried to the kitchen. He looked at you now, and chuckled at your crossed arms and heavy glare. 

 

“You are very lucky I have no aversion to hugs,” you pouted, pursing your lips and tightening your glare. Sans’ grin only grew, and he returned to the couch. 

 

“pap does that alot.” He hummed, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back. “It’s probably good that you don’t. giant spinning hugs are his greeting. that and spaghetti.” 

 

“...why spaghetti?”

 

“Don’t ask.”

 

“Now i’m curious.”

 

“mmmm... Probably because it’s safest for the kitchen?”

 

“I......... what is your brother making for me?” 

 

“Friendship spaghetti.”

 

“How is that different than normal Spaghetti?”

 

“Probably more ingredients.”

 

“More ingredients? How much can you put in spaghetti?”

 

“Lots of things, if you’re Papyrus.”

 

“Oh......Should I be worried?”

 

“Probably.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So less of a puzzle this round. But some VERY HEAVY FORESHADOWING! 
> 
> can you guys guess what's gonna happen in the future? I"m curious if i made it too obvious...


	6. A Toothy Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus's friendship spaghetti, then you help Tooth with their illness.
> 
> Then you help Tooth again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would anyone want me to create a Tumblr for this fic? 
> 
> Also. Thanks for your guys support! Super helpful! I had quite a bit of difficulty with this chapter for some reason, not quite sure. Not much really happens, but hey, whatevs. 
> 
> The next few chapters are probably gonna be shorter, but a bit more intense (you'll see what i mean when you read this chapter). 
> 
> Despite being hard to write, i enjoyed writing this chapter :)

The toilet in front of you was your new best friend. The bowl you clutched between your hands with a steely grip as you leaned over it in misery seemed to be your only solace in your unending torturous death. Had it been a couple of hours? Was it longer? You had no idea anymore, it all meshed together: your tortured moans and heaves, Papyrus’s apologies hollered through closed doors, Sans checking on you every once in awhile. 

 

You were dying. No doubt about it, your last hours were going to be here, in this unused bathroom in a skeleton’s home, puking “Aged Salmon, Shellfish and Cheese Spaghetti a la’ Papyrus” until you were dry heaving, strained tears streaming down your face. 

 

_ ‘Why’  _ you would ask yourself when you weren’t gasping for air.  _ ‘Why did I eat that rancid dish of death?’  _

 

The question was quickly answered when the hopeful face of the 10-foot  _ goober _ flashed in your head, followed by an  _ intense _ emotion of... of.... love..... concern .... _ something.... _ and also guilt. Right. You couldn’t have let that cutey giant down. After another heave, though, you admitted that you wouldn’t hesitate to let him down if the chance came again. 

 

“HUMAN!?” You heard the incriminating party through the door, “ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU HAVE BEEN PARTAKING IN THE HUMAN DEFECATION CEREMONY FOR QUITE A LONG TIME!” You could almost  _ taste _ the worried expression on his face. His knuckles rapped on the door a few more times, and it stayed silent. After a while, “WAS IT SOMETHING YOU ATE?” Your response was to let out a pained groan, which turned into heaving and coughing. “HUMAN!” The knocking became more insistent, almost panicked. 

 

“Just leave me to my graaave!” you moaned, flopping over the bowl of the toilet and wishing your grave would come sooner rather than later. The raucous knocking stopped after your whining, and you could hear Sans slowly talking Papyrus away from the door. You told yourself to thank him as you let yourself fade out in exhaustion. 

 

_______________

_______________

You awoke on the unfamiliar floor of the skeleton’s bathroom, curled in fetal position with a small cup of water right in front of your face. You sat up, staring at the water tentatively. Could you drink that? Were you well enough to? 

 

You reached down, shakily lifting up the glass, and finally bringing it to your lips, taking a small sip. 

 

...nope. You couldn’t. 

________________

________________

“Hey, kid, I know you’ve grown pretty used to that place, but I don’t think it’s really a good idea to stay in the bathroom for this long...” 

 

“MMMMMmmmmmmmmmmm”

 

“Now I know Pap’s cooking can be a little  _ shitty _ , but this is starting to get really worrisome.” Sans’ voice sounded genuinely concerned, so you naturally had to answer with more than a moan. You shambled to the bathroom door, and swung it open to a concerned (and now slightly surprised) skeleton. He blinked a few times, looking you up and down. “Wow.” He whistled. “You look like shit.” 

 

“You just said that pun,” you flat-lined. 

 

“Wasn’t a pun. You look like literal shit.” his eyes were wide as he looked at you. Your hair rivaled Medusa, your eyes and face burned red, and you had the posture of someone 5 minutes from Death Row. 

 

“Just what a girl wants to hear.” you dribbled, walking back to the corner of the bathroom where the bathroom was, and dropping to the floor, leaning against the wall opposite of the porcelain bowl. “Food poisoning sucks.” 

 

“Heh. I can see that.” Sans flopped down next to you, and you shot him a half-appreciative, half ‘please save me’ look. He returned an empathetic grimace. “You gonna be okay, kid?”

 

“Yeah... I think it’s mostly done. I just feel absolutely disgusting.” You knocked your head against the wall behind you, taking a deep breath. 

 

“You can, uhh... You can use our shower, if ya’ want.” Sans offered, and your head rocked to the side to look at him. 

 

“That sounds like sex.” 

 

“What?”

 

“Like... it sounds like it would be as satisfying as... you know? Nevermind.” 

 

“I think I get it.” Sans winked at you, and you let out a huff of a laugh. 

 

“Yeah. Could you grab my extra set of clothing from my bag by the couch and place it in here? I’m gonna take that shower so I can return to the Waking World.” You leaned forward, using the toilet to help stand up. Sans followed quickly, tossing a quick affirmation as he walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Thankful, you quickly stripped and hopped in the shower. 

Sans reached the bag next to “your” couch, and quickly reached into it, sifting through the items to find your clothes. He pulled out each item, setting them on the ground one-by-one, ready to be placed back once he got your clothes. 3 books, your computer bag, your koala, a small sculpture...of...a hand...

 

With a knot in the palm, almost pitch black. Sans felt his breath catch as he stared at the haphazardly sculpted wood now resting in his hand. It was no doubt somewhere between a skeletal and a human hand, and the knot looked like both a happy mistake and a product by design at the same time. But Sans knew it was not just a “happy mistake.” 

 

This was his first piece of proof. Actual, bonafide truth that you were connected to Gaster... _ somehow!  _

 

He looked at the sculpture, trying to think back to when you put it in your bag... Did you? Or did it just... get there? Hell if he knew. Either way, Sans decided that it probably wouldn’t be missed too much if it just, you know, mysteriously disappeared. From his hands right now. Into his room. Without you knowing. Yeah, that’s fine, right? 

 

...Right?

 

Quickly grabbing the clothing and stuffing the rest of the items in your bag, Sans returns to the bathroom, knocking on the door. He hears you hollar the “ok,” and cracks the door open. He is immediately hit with a cloud of steam that staggers him with the sheer amount of steam billowing over his face. 

 

“Shit, ________, it’s a sauna in here!” 

 

“Sorry, Sorry! It’s just so nice!” You sing back, completely blocked from his view by the rolling steam. Hell, he couldn’t even see the  _ counter! _ “Just leave the clothing on the ground, please!” 

 

“Yeah yeah.” Sans drops the clothing, and begins his retreat, before pausing for a moment. With the door open like this, the steam will slowly leave, meaning if he waits a few moments.........

 

He quickly slams the door and rushes away, face a vibrant blue. Nope nope nope. Not doing that. NOT doing that. He just met you like, Yesterday! He shook his head back and forth, dispelling the image that had not yet fully formed. 

 

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were suddenly overcome with an intense sense of-...pride?- as you stepped out of the shower, skin steaming, body refreshed. That pesky shoulder pain from retching over the toilet was gone! Thank GOD! With a final crack of the neck, you toweled dry, and pulled your clothes on. Leaving the bathroom, you found your way back to the couch, and grabbed your bag. 

“phone phone phone...” you hummed, sifting through your items till you found your hand-held communication device. Tapping it on, you checked the day and time. Sunday, around 7pm.... Your mind trailed off a bit, creating a mental calendar. Friday, you met Sans, and then had the sleepover at Tooth’s. Saturday, 11am, Sans called, and around 11:15 (holy shit that skeleton works fast), you found yourself at the Skeleton’s abode. You napped for you weren’t sure how long, you had dinner (if you recall, the sun was still up, so it couldn’t have been that late), you watched some TV with the skele-bros You and Sans occupied the couch, and Papyrus sprawled on the ground. When you offered to scoot over to give Papyrus space on the couch, he simply explained that it wasn’t comfortable: “That couch is much too low to the ground for my grandeur size!” you remember him exclaiming. “It’s as if you sat in Frisks’ school chairs, or a kiddie toilet! Not! Comfortable!” You reminded yourself at the time to ask who Frisk was later. Shrugging off Papyrus’s comments as he sprawled on the ground, the three of you enjoyed watching “Brain Games,” which Papyrus stated was for “STRICT STUDYING PURPOSES ONLY!” Either way, it was pretty fun watching Papyrus scrunching his eyes and yelling out answers, yelling in frustration when he couldn’t get puzzles, and hooting when he “Outsmarted the Human Puzzle Masters.” You and Sans, meanwhile, talked leisurely (to the chagrin of Papyrus) about varying topics, and you grew to enjoy his calming company even more. That whole experience gave the sun enough time to set, and your stomach enough time to decide  that it hated you. 

 

You guessed it was around 7 or 8 PM last night that you had zoned out for a moment, sweating lightly at the rumbling of your stomach. Sans looked at you worriedly, and had asked if you were alright. Your answer was to shoot off the couch, and make a stumbling bee-line to the bathroom. 

 

A solid 24 hours. You had been in that bathroom, living in Hell for a solid 24 hours. No wonder Sans and Papyrus were worried! Guilt settled on your mind as you flopped on the couch, letting out a small huff of air. You’d have to get them both an apology gift or something. 

 

“HUMAN?” You looked up, noticing the giant eyes of the skeleton standing at the stairs. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” he wrung his hands together, looking both extremely worried and horridly guilty at the same time. “SANS SAID YOU HAD SOMETHING CALLED FOOD POISONING...” The last word hung in the air, as if Papyrus seemed to know that your pain was caused by his cooking, but he did not have the fortitude to say it out loud... Your throat choked up a bit, and you knew you couldn’t be mad at the guy (you hadn’t been from the first place, but now you knew that it was simply impossible to). 

 

“Yeah...” You said slowly, chewing on your lip a bit. “But I’m alright now.” You assured him, “It only lasts about 24 hours, so I’m fully healed now!” You held up your arms again, flexing. “You can't take down the All Powerful _______ that easily!” You exclaimed (a little quieter though), giving the skeleton in front of you an encouraging smile. You hoped for him to respond with a smile in turn, so you two could move on peacefully. 

 

What you did not hope for, or expect really, was for the skeleton to literally propel himself across the room with one bound, toss himself into your lap, clutch at your shirt, and wail loud enough to blast out your eardrums. “I’M SO SORRY HUMAN I DID NOT MEAN TO POISON YOU! I PROMISE WITH ALL OF MY HEART THAT MY SPAGHETTI WAS ONE OF FRIENDSHIP AND NOT AS YOU HUMANS SAY “ANIMALOSITY!” IF I HAD KNOWN I WOULD POISON YOU, I WOULD HAVE RATHER JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW AND NEVER RETURN!” 

 

“W-woah! W-wait Pa-pa-pa-Papy-..rus!” you stuttered out, small alarm bells ringing in your mind as your brain didn’t speak with your lips. You had literally  _ choked _ on that last syllable, but you ignored it. “It it it it it’s o-o-okay! I-I-I’m o...kay!” you stumbled out, reaching out a hand to stroke his head. Your hand creaked, stopped and started like a creaky joint or a stalling car, but you got it to Papyrus’s head anyway. This was just a small seizure. You could fight through it. You could. You could. You steeled your mind, concentrating with all your might as you pet the weeping skeleton. You couldn’t drop now, you’d only worry poor Papyrus even more. 

 

Papyrus turned a bit in your lap, tossing his arms around your waist and hugging your midsection as he wailed even more, sending shiver after shiver through your mind, bashing at your willpower to fight between Seizure and Solacing. 

 

With one final wail from Papyrus, you felt your will snap, and wave after wave of static swam in your brain, and you doubled over yourself, clutching onto Papyrus and holding him tight. 

 

“Sh. sh sh sh shhhh.” You prattled out, rocking back and forth with Papyrus in your arms. “Sh sh sh shhhh,” Your mouth opened and closed without your permission, sometimes getting stuck half way before snapping up or down. You breathed differently, but did not stop rocking. Papyrus, seemingly calmed by your repetitive movements, calmed, only shivering slightly as he hugged you. You slowly returned and your shushes turned from incoherent noises to actual solacing, and a song seemed to prickle at your mind, a melody birthed from nothing, but compelling you to close your mouth and hum it anyway. 

 

So you did. Your rocking slowed, and you pet the top of Papyrus’s head, letting the odd, yet calming, melody slip from your lips. The voice coming from your mouth was most definitely yours, but, for some reason, it felt different. As if someone else was using you to sing, the notes spilled from you, dancing over and under each other, weaving through the air and falling onto a now stilled Papyrus. Your head buzzed lightly at your own voice, and you took a small breath to steady yourself. As you pet his head, a sense of calm settled over you, and for one brief moment, you felt like everything was back to how it was supposed to be. Like you were home. Like you were home. Like you were home. Home. Home... Home. 

Your mind got stuck, repeating the same word or phrase, as if a broken recorder. You attempted to stop it, but only “Home” had purchase in your mind. Only Home. Home. 

H-Home. Home. 

Home. 

You were home. Home.... 

Emotions that weren’t yours flooded into your soul; you felt giddy, pained, excited. Fearful, apprehensious, overjoyed. Loving, guilt-ridden, repentant. 

You felt like you were fading, you were losing strength. You knew you should be panicking; you only had a little bit of time left before you would be gone! You had to tell someone! You had to find Sans! You had to get help! 

But you faded too fast.... 

Your head buzzed still from your own voice, but when you looked down at the skeleton in your lap, you were surprised to see him snoozing. Papyrus’s grasp had loosened, and his head lolled to the side, letting out a second snore. You breathed a chuckle, rubbing your hand over his head again as you watched the peculiar skeleton snooze on your lap. That was probably the most eventful, emotionally charged 2 minutes of your life. You went from feeling better, to consoling a crying Papyrus, to singing a song, to now being peaceful all in 2 minutes. Shit. That should be a new record. Happy frightened guilty fumbling and then happy again. Score. 5 points! You let out a soft yawn as you stroked Papyrus’s head some more, enjoying the post-Pap-calm. After a while, you looked up, and almost jumped. 

 

Sans was standing at the foot of the stairs, frozen in place as he stared at you. After calming, you smiled guiltily at him. Here you were, a 2nd day friend, sitting on his couch with his sleeping brother clutching you. “I seem to be getting cozy with your family pretty fas-” 

 

“Where did you hear that song?” Sans’ interrogated. Taken aback from his abrupt question, you recoiled, scrunching your face in confusion. 

 

Off-put, you answered hesitantly. “Uhh...” Where did you know that song from? “I dunno. Or i can’t remember. It just kinda... came to me? Maybe i heard it in passing or something...” You shrugged. Sans just stared at you, face scrunched in concentration; for what, you did not know. 

 

“Could you sing it again?” He asked, walking over to the couch and sitting slowly next to you, eyes now on Papyrus (still sprawled on top of your lap, kneeling in front of the couch). You let the silence fill the room for a moment, trying to remember how the song started. 

 

You couldn’t remember. In fact, you couldn’t remember even one bar. Not a thing. “I...” You pulled at your thumb nervously, frowning. “I can’t seem to recall...” You trailed off, pulling a bit more vigorously at your thumb. It pops, and you let it go, tugging anxiously at your finger now. 

 

“Ah.” Sans said simply, face falling to your twiddling hands. “Well... That’s a shame.” He sounded truly disappointed. Your head turned to him in question, and he gave you a...sort of smile. You’re sure it was meant to be a smile, but it wasn’t. “I just wanted to hear your beautiful voice again.” He winked. 

 

You just stared at him, not letting his comment distract you. Your eyebrows scrunched. You didn’t like seeing him like this. “If I remember it, do you want me to sing it to you?” 

 

“You won’t remember it.” 

 

“Sure I will! It’ll come again!” You smiled at him, tapping your noggin. “I just gotta give my ol’ ticker a bit of time to cool down!” 

 

Sans laughed only slightly, and reached out, placing a hand on Papyrus’s shoulder. The sleeping skeleton did not react. San’s began to lightly stroke the shoulder comfortingly, slowly, as if he were not petting Papyrus for Papyrus, but rather for himself. “Okay kid, sure” He said, voice low, slow, and dull. Empty. Immediately, your heart screamed in empathy. You wanted to hug him from just those words, to pull him into your chest and tell him that everything was going to be okay. That whatever was bothering him would either be fixed, or would go away, or would pass in time. You didn’t know what caused his voice to sound like that, but you hated it. You were not one to pry, though; just one to be there for a friend in need. 

 

So, despite sitting there in complete confusion at San’s intense reaction to your disjointed humming, you rest your hand on Sans’, and slowly stroke your thumb over the top of his fingers. He quickly looked up at you, and you gave him a patient smile. The side of his mouth quirked for a moment, and then his eyes dropped back down, and he stared at where your hands touched, eyes hollow of all emotion except exhaustion. You continued to stroke his hand, giving him time. You said nothing, and expected nothing to be said. He just needed time to reboot, per-say. After a while of just staring, Sans seemed to shake off his sadness, and he looked up at you. You pat his hand once, twice, three times, and then you held it. 

 

“Y’know,” you squeezed his hand, “If my singing puts one skeleton to sleep, and drops the other one into a depression, I think i might be in  _ treble _ .” You attempt to joke, and then almost immediately internally panic. Was that insensitive? Shit!

 

Sans merely chuckled. “Your singing is  _ note _ a problem,” his eyes go downcast for a moment, and he squeezes your hand back. “I just got lost in my own thoughts for a bit there...”

 

“Don’t we all, though?” You reassured, smiling in his direction. He returned the gesture, and then released your hand, hopping off the couch. 

 

“You want something to eat?” He questioned, looking back at you with raised eyebrows. Your stomach rolled at the thought, and you held back a gag. 

 

“No thank you,” You choked out with a frown. “I have a feeling i’m gonna be on the BRAT diet for a while.” 

 

“Brat? Like the bitchy small females or children?” 

 

“No no not ‘brat,’ B-R-A-T. Beans, Rice, Apples and Toast. It’s what humans are supposed to eat after food poisoning or hangovers. It’s easy on the stomach, so we don’t upchuck again.” 

 

“Ah. Well... I  think we have bread? I can make toast.” Sans begins meandering toward the kitchen, and you shift slightly, looking down at Papyrus, who now looks like the most comfortable person alive. You let out a soft sigh, resigning yourself to your “stuck” fate. 

 

“Then sure. I guess I’m gonna be here for a while anyway, because,” You gestured to Papyrus, “You know.” Sans chuckled at your predicament. 

 

“I can help you, if you want.” He offered, walking back to you, and leaning on the arm-rest. He was a good few inches from you, and with the way you were seated, he leaned over you with an easy grin. Your heart skipped a beat, and you let one soft breathy laugh, looking up at him (his heart skipped a beat, but you couldn’t have  _ possibly _ known that). His hand swept out toward you gracefully, and he held it out to you as a gentleman would to help a lady over a puddle. 

 

“Oh, you can?” You mocked, leaving his hand hanging there as you purposefully stroked Papyrus’s head. “I think I rather like it here, kind sir.” You “snuggled” yourself into the couch, eliciting a snort from Sans as you lifted a hand to your chest, ‘offended.’ 

 

“Oh c’mon, sweet lady, that position must lack the comfort one of your rank deserves” He leaned forward with a sultry smile, now only inches from your face. You sank into the couch a bit, retreating from his proximity, pink spotting your cheeks. His smile grew, almost as if victorious, and you gave into his demands, if just to get him out of your personal space (Or to get out from under Papyrus, as your legs had lost feeling about a minute ago, and your feet were buzzing with the ferocity of a million ant farms). You shot him a pouting glare, and took his hand, gently resting your fingers in his, as if to keep the act going. 

 

His phalanges slowly curled around your hand, and he leaned out of your personal space, lifting your hand a bit. He slowly brought his skull down to his hand, until his teeth pressed lightly against your fingers. 

 

You were no longer under Papyrus, but rather sitting in a dining room chair, with Sans kneeling in front of you, still pressed against your fingers, looking up at you with a slow smirk. Your brain seemed about as slow as his smile for a few moments, but it finally clicked into place, and your eyes widened. You quickly pulled your hand from his, and (using the same hand), face palmed his forehead, pushing him away with with a laugh. “Holy Potato you’re such a nerd!” you declared through laughs, watching as he swung his arms around for a moment before flopping onto his behind on the ground. He looked up at you, stunned for a moment before he recovered. 

 

“at least i’m not  _ starch _ raving mad.” 

 

“You know, I think you just might be!” 

 

“I take exception to that.”

 

“No you don’t  you liar.” You accused, still laughing. 

 

“you caught me red handed,” Sans shrugged, lifting his hands up in the air. His hands were  _ actually red! _ Where did- how did- was that  _ ketchup? _

 

“Is that-”

 

“Come on, ______, ya gotta  _ ketchup  _ with my wit. I’m leaving you in the dust here.” He winked, crawling to a standing position again and heading to the kitchen. 

 

“Oh. Then I guess I  _ mustard-uously _ try to meet your standards so I can  _ relish _ the day that I beat you.” You responded immediately, surprising even yourself with such quick wit. Sans’s head turned to you with surprise and pride, and he gave you a thumbs up. You couldn’t deny that you literally  _ beamed _ in pride. 

_______________

_______________

 

Two pieces of toast, a little conversation, and a tiptoe past Papyrus later to get your stuff, and you were swiftly returned home. Standing in front of your door, you let go of Sans, and gave him a thankful smile. He returned it, rocking onto his heels. “So I’ll see you on Tuesday?” He questioned with a smile. You nodded, grasping the handle of your door, and leaning on it a bit. You weren’t quite ready to let the skeleton leave, but fiddling with the door when talking with people seemed to be a weird habit of yours (It always seemed to make them think you wanted them to leave, though, so maybe you should stop? meh whatever). 

 

“Yeah I’ll be there bright and early.” You leaned against your door a bit, “They’re doing some repairs on the gas of the building, apparently, so even if I didn’t want to see you, I’d still probably end up in the library,” you mused. 

 

“Gas?” He questioned, and you shrugged. 

 

“Yeah this is a pretty old building. Apparently Bratty complained about her stove  _ and _ her dryer not working, and when they did a check on it, they found some unnerving rust on the pipes. THey’re doing a full check tomorrow and tuesday to be sure that it’s only her apartment that’s got the warning signs.” You shrugged again, “They’re not kicking us out, but since I’m right next to Bratty’s house, I don’t really wanna smell that gas all day. Pretty much everyone on the third floor shares the same sentiment.”  

 

“Ah. Well I sure hope the problem isn’t  _ GAStronomica-” _

 

_ “GOODBYE!”  _ you interrupted loudly, hand twisting the handle of the door. It swung open behind you, letting you fall backward -gracefully!- into your apartment, and stumble -GRACEFULLY!- around the door to slam in Sans’ face. 

 

You could hear his muffled voice, “You know you should really lock your door when you’re not using it,” his snark was poisonous. You purposely flipped the deadbolt to locked, and didn’t miss the chuckle from the opposing side. You graced it with no response. After a few moments, you heard him again, “Alright. I’ll see you around.” And then it fell silent. He was gone. You relaxed slightly, slipping out of your shoes and pulling your socks off expertly with your big toes. You dropped your bag by your front door, and then fell onto your bed. 

 

You had decided that it was time for sleep, and sleep agreed. A moment before you slipped into unconsciousness, you vaguely remembered that you needed to take your medication. Your hand wiggled, fourth heartedly reaching for your pill case before it flopped down, falling into the void  with you. 

 

____________

____________

 

When you woke up in the morning, you felt unnerved. You tried to recall your dreams, but they did not come; they just left you with an unsettled soul and a dry mouth. You shook it off, and went about your morning routines. Meds, water, breakfast, some homework, some chores, and then boredom. It was only around three when you finished everything in your apartment, and flopped onto your bed again, kicking your feet up and down as you wondered how to fill the rest of your day. Maybe go shopping? Your fridge  _ was _ looking pretty empty. You looked over at your empty fridge, and while it called for you to fill it, something else in your mind told you not to. 

 

You listened to the other voice, scooching up on your bed until you could reach your wall. You knocked on it. A few moments passed. 

 

“Let me guess.” Tooth’s voice rang through the wall, albeit a bit quieter than normal. “You’re bored.” 

 

“Yup!” You stated, “Can i come over?” 

 

“I don’t have cake.” 

 

“Oh. Well then I guess I have no reason to come over, if one of my only friends can’t offer me cake,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. You heard a weak chuckle from Tooth’s side, and you frowned a bit. “You okay, pal? You sound a little hoarse.” 

 

“Yeah...” Tooth coughed, “Just feelin’ a little under the weather.” 

 

You scrunched your eyes, a small idea on what to do for the day forming in your head. “........ Are monster colds contagious?” 

 

“Uhh.... I don’t think so? We don’t even have the same physiology, how could that even be possible?” And there it was. Plans confirmed!

 

“Kay! I’ll be right back!” You hollered, excited now, jumping off your bed. You could hear Tooth’s exclamations of confusion as you snagged your purse, threw yourself into your shoes, and bounded out of your house. You roared through the halls, barrelled down the stairs, burst out of the apartment building, and soared down the street. 

 

Living less than a mile away from a Monster-Mart had it’s benefits. Besides access to wonderful magical snacks, you could also get all the items needed for helping a friend in a matter of minutes. 

 

New soft fluffy blanket. Cinna-bunny. okay 10 cinna bunnies...... 15. You wanted some too..... Chicken soup, some orange juice, some Vicks (Does that help monsters? Where would you even  _ put _ it on Tooth? Meh. you’d figure it out), a plethora of different movies, a teddy bear (okay maybe you were going a bit overboard here, but hey! You were excited! You loved helping out your friends and making them feel loved!) 

Finally, some medicine:

(‘yeah I’m looking for cold medicine for.. a... monster?’ 

‘Oh sure honey. Standard or boss?’ 

‘uhh....?’

‘Here, i’ll give you both at a small discount.’ 

‘thank you so much!” 

‘No, thank you! Not often that a human comes in here asking for items to help out a monster. Your partner is very lucky.’

‘Hehe no, they’re a friend.’ 

‘Oh. My apology! Have a good day!’)

With everything taken care of, you made your way back to the apartment, and waltzed into Tooth’s apartment, all smiles and grocery bags. When you dropped onto the edge of Tooth’s bed and began unpacking your Get Well kit, you could hear Tooth’s gasp. 

 

“You’re too good to me.”

 

“I know.” you teased, holding up the viks in one hand, and the two bottles of medicine in the other. “Now,” You gave them a helpless smile, “help me help you?” 

 

______________

______________

You awoke to the sound of your phone alarm, and scrambled to find it, quickly snoozing the sound. You heard Tooth mumble next to you, and you glanced over. Tooth was a giant bundle of blankets and tissues, and you could still hear them sniffling and coughing. You had fallen asleep on the foot of the bed at around 1am, half-way through your 5th movie. At that time, Tooth seemed to stable, but was still gradually getting worse. You concluded that they’d be sick for a few days, if you could compare a monster illness to a human one. You frowned as they coughed again, and reached out to pat the blanket. 

 

“How ya’ doin, buddy?” you asked, and only got a pained moan in return. “You want breakfast?” a shaking wiggle of the blankets. “Some Water?” Shake. “Some medicine?” A pause, then a nod. You quickly sat up, retrieving the “standard” medicine, and measuring out the correct amount of the thick liquid. You sat on the edge of Tooth’s bed, and held out the small spoon. “You gotta call your soul out yourself, bud, I can’t do that part.” You spoke, remembering the lesson that Tooth gave you the night before. Sickness came from slightly tainted magic in the soul, so medicine had to be poured straight onto the soul to help purify the magic. But humans could not call out the soul of a monster; something about the “soul resonance” not working right because of “So much.... (Tooth had gestured at your body as a whole with an odd turn of their mouth)  _ stuff.”  _ Tooth had mentioned that it  _ was _ possible for a human to summon a monster's soul, but it was only if the human had an intense emotion toward the monster. Tooth had then paled slightly, and spoke of how the only emotion they had ever seen a human use to summon a soul was malice. It broke your heart, and created quite a bit of anxiety when Tooth said they would show you their soul to apply the medicine. You had stuttered and shaken your hands, saying you didn’t want to make Tooth uncomfortable. 

 

Tooth had quelled all your anxiety with a wave of their hand and the biggest smile you have ever seen. “I trust you,” They had said, and then exposed their soul for the first time. 

 

You admitted that the image of the glimmering soul in front of you would forever be imprinted on your mind. 

 

Back in the present, Tooth grumbled as they rolled over, popping out their soul without even a wave of their hand. The sudden appearance of the brilliant heart nearly made you jump out of your skin. 

 

It was mainly opaque white, like Tooth said all monster hearts were, but it seemed to have the faintest tint of yellow swirling inside it, like living smoke, but somehow thicker, more tangible. It twirled and billowed and lightly pressed against the thin white layer that kept it inside, constantly moving, but slow and glimmering and shining and pulsing and  _ humming  _ and it took your breath away every time. 

 

You took a soft breath to calm your jittering pulse, and carefully began pouring the medicine on the upside-down heart, staring at the beautiful heart in front of you. The thick smoke inside seemed to glow a bit brighter as the medicine was absorbed, but it paled again once you finished pouring. You wondered for a moment just how much more beautiful the soul would be if Tooth wasn’t sick. 

 

Once you finished, the soul retreated back to it’s owner, and you let out a soft “wow” before you placed the bottle and spoon on the bedside table. You heard Tooth let out a coughing laugh at your suspended amazement at their soul. You blushed slightly, “Are you gonna be okay for the day? I have to go to school.” 

 

“Yeah,” Tooth mumbled, “I don’t think i’m gonna move from this spot. I don’t have any strength.” 

 

“You’re not helping convince me that you’re okay.” 

 

“I’ll be fine. Just sleeping.”

 

“....okay...” You hesitated a bit before standing. “I’ll be back tonight, and I’ll cook the rest of the Chicken Noodle, kay?” You asked, and received a weak nod as an answer. You accepted it, and retreated from Tooth’s apartment to your own. 

 

Tuesday. School Day. You smiled at the thought of seeing your new friend as you grabbed the bag you left by your door, and began to leave again. You paused for a moment, looking around your place. It had been three days since you had the seizure in your kitchen, but it seemed like so much longer. You had met Papyrus, had food poisoning, watched movies,took care of a friend... You reminisced, but something rang in the back of your mind, almost begging you to just leave. Quickly leave. Get out of here. Leave.  _ Leave! _

 

You relented, going in for only a moment to dry-swallow your meds before exiting your apartment and closing your door. You travelled down the stairs, and walked out the front to meet Max as he drove up in his beater pick-up. He smiled at you from the driver's side, and you gave him a wave, tossing your bag in the bed of the truck, and opening the door to the passenger side. 

 

As you placed your first leg into the car, Reality seemed to tear at the seams. Time slowed as your eardrums burst at the loudest sound you have ever heard. You whipped around, breath lost as you were greeted with a wall of heated air. Your hair scattered backwards and your eyes watered at the heat of the air that flew past you, knocking you back into the truck. Your head immediately screamed at you, buzzing and twisting and trying to break away from your control. You (mostly) ignored it as you stared at what  _ used _ to be the third floor of your apartment, but what was now just fire. You stared at it, feeling some sort of Deja vu for a moment before your shock was shoved away by immense, overpowering dread. The blood rushed in your ears, and your feet were already moving straight for the burning building before you mind had fully comprehended what it realized. When it did though, your voice ripped from your mouth. 

 

“TOOTH!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look forward to next chapter!!! 
> 
> I was thinking of creating a tumblr for this fic as I did with A House or a Home, but i'm not sure. Would anyone post on it or give fanart or anything? I dunno if my fic is good enough for that kind of attention, but i'd be stoked if it was!


	7. Poof, there it is.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burning buildings, and a 10-foot Skeleton Firefighter. What more could you ask for? 
> 
> Also Sans has a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING PLEASE READ! ALSO A SPOILER IN THE TRIGGER WARNING SO PLEASE DON'T READ AFTER THE WORD "SPOILER"   
> In this chapter, there is a graphic depiction of fire, burning, panic, being trapped in fire, and SPOILER ||||||major/minor (?) character death|||||| 
> 
> Please skip this chapter, and just read the end-notes if you do not want to read it. 
> 
>  
> 
> IF ANYONE DRAWS 10-FOOT TALL FIREFIGHTER PAPYRUS I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER! 
> 
> IF ANYONE DRAWS A 10 FOOT TALL FIREFIGHTER PAPYRUS I WILL LOVE THEM FOREVER! 
> 
> I felt like I had to repeat that twice. Because i need a firefighting 10-foot tall Papyrus in my life. We all do. Just saying.

You heard the cries of your friend from behind you -cries of alarm, cries of worry, cries for you to come back- but it was easy to ignore them as you flew across the sidewalk, slamming into the door to your apartment. You shoved it open and sprinted in, heading straight for the stairs across the hall. Your feet move swift, but stuttered regularly, sending you stumbling across the floor, just barely catching yourself before you fell. Your head fuzzed constantly, sending you in and out of a panicking stupor of mind numbing seizures. 

 

You knew how to move during these types; just keep going, and your head will come back soon. So you did, stumbling but moving still, but not without hitches. 

 

You slammed into the wall on the other side of the hall before turning and bolting up the stairs, three at a time. Half way up, you missed a step, and crashed into the stairs, hands jerking up to save your face. You crawled up the stairs from there, using your hands to force yourself up faster. You reached the top of the stairs, and cursed the layout of the building. Stairs were always on the opposite sides of the hall. 

 

You shoved off the ground, sprinting forward, only stumbling when the ceiling just a few feet in front of you collapsed, releasing the fire on the third floor to the second and blocking your way. You halted in front of your blocked path, coughing at the sudden debris and smoke that invaded your lungs. You looked to your left and right, mind sprinting at a million miles a second. 

 

It stuttered, sending waves of static through your mind, urging you to turn around. Go back. It wasn’t safe. You rebuked it, turning to the left and slamming your shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge, so you slammed into it again. And again. And again. The smoke made it harder, but you continued anyway until it splintered and collapsed inward, sending you stumbling through it. You crashed onto the ground, the wood falling to either side of you, a piece slicing into your arm. You let out a pained grunt, hand flying to your arm. Blood poured through your fingers, but got up anyway, looking around the room. 

 

Window. Window. Window. 

 

Your eyes fell onto the window, and right next to it, a cowering Whimsum. You coughed. 

 

“Whimsum!” You wheezed, and the small creature looked up at you, panic in its eyes. You ran up to it, grabbing it around the waist and then heading to the window. You slid the window open, jumping when the ceiling behind you gave way, some burning pieces crashing into your back. You let out a scream, but fought off the pain. Your clothing caught on fire, and went out almost just as fast. You knew why, and muttered a quick thanks to the shaking Whimsum in your hand. You crawled through the window, your feet landing on the cold metal of the emergency stairwell. You placed Whimsum on the handrail, looking her up and down for injuries. She was mostly fine, albeit a wing broken enough that it  threatened to snap off. 

 

“Can you get downstairs?” You asked quickly, and the small monster nodded. 

 

“Go!” you yelled, and turned, running up the stairs. 

 

“Wait!” you heard Whimsum behind you, and you turned, barely stopping. “Here!” Whimsum waved a hand. You could feel a sensation on your face, and the smoke spilling out of the windows above you rolled past your face instead of assaulting your lungs. You could breath again. You gave Whimsum a thankful nod, and continued your sprint. 

 

You reached the third floor window, cursing your luck when it was the only one closed, and tried to yank it open. Your hand was slippery from the blood, but you were able to push it open anyway. Smoke crashed into your face, leaving your lungs alone but stinging your eyes. You squeezed them shut as you nearly vaulted through the window, landing on your hands and knees. Glass and debris cut up your palms and kneecaps. Your head shot up, and you bolted straight for the door. Instead of grabbing the handle, you turned your shoulder to the door, and crashed into it. 

 

It buckled at your weight and momentum, impaling you with shards of burning wood and sending you flying into the hall, and into a storm of fire. It bit at your face and clothing, catching the hems and corners on fire. You panicked, and turned toward the direction you thought your apartment was in, and ran. You got out of the main fire storm, and quickly pat out the small fires on your clothing. You looked around, fear gripping your chest as you realized that you were trapped between two raging fires. They licked at your skin ruthlessly. 

 

Your head began to buzz again, sparks and static nearly taking over your entire mind. You stood there, frozen in place for what felt like forever, the fire encroaching on you as you stood there, stark still. 

 

In front of you. Forward. Forward. Forward. 

 

FORWARD! 

 

You darted forward, straight into the fire, covering your eyes as you went. You could feel your legs frying, but you kept going. Your head swung from left to right, trying to figure out where you were, but it was helpless. YOu couldn’t see anything through the licking flames. 

 

Right. 

 

You jumped to the right, and you could feel wood against your shoulder. It collapsed immediately, sending sparks and wood across your face. Your cheeks screamed, and you could feel the tears streaming down your face, leaving dry salt stains across your cheeks. The flames in this room were worse than the others, and you could barely see more than a foot past your face. You still didn’t know where you were, but something in your mind told you that you were in the right place. 

 

Forward. 

 

You stumbled forward, fighting through the flames. You were losing strength, you knew it, but you kept going despite your body’s screaming demands to drop. 

 

Left. 

 

You jerked your head to the left, and your eyes widened. Tooth was right in front of you, on their bed still, completely engulfed in flames. A part of the wall had collapsed onto the bed, wedging Tooth between the corner of the bed and the fallen wall. The other half of the wall towered over Tooth, just begging to snap in half and crush your friend. You could hear their wheezing breaths and see the glowing yellow around them, protecting them only minorly from the flames. You leaped forward, fists grabbing the comforter and trying to rip it from Tooth’s body. It disintegrated in your hands, doing nothing to free Tooth. You turned, grabbing the flat slab of the wall, and pulling with all your might. It didn’t budge. You tried again, trying to wedge your shoulder between the wall and Tooth, shoving with your shoulder. It only cut into your shoulder, leaving a large gash on your shoulder blade. You let out a grunt of pain, and turned to Tooth. 

 

“Tooth!” You yelled, and their mouth barely twitched in response. Their yellow magic faded, and you panicked more. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest as you grabbed their shoulders. “Tooth I’m going to try and pull you out, okay?” You spat out, and their mouth moved slightly, letting out a weak whimper. Your hands moved from their shoulders to around their form, and you tugged with all your might. 

 

They moved! Only slightly, but they moved! 

 

You pulled again; they moved again. You were getting somewhere! You felt the wall shift some. With Tooth moving, the wall moved too, beginning to crack and splinter without Tooth’s support under it. You breathed faster; you had to get away before it crumbled; it would collapse on top of both of you! 

 

You braced your feet against the floor, tightening your grip around Tooth. “Come on, Come on, come on!” You pulled again, and Tooth moved, jerking toward you, slipping out from under the wall. They were free! 

 

The wall teetering above the both of you collapsed. 

 

Your heart stopped. 

 

The upper half of the wall snapped, falling toward you both faster than you could react. 

 

Static filled your mind. 

 

A blue hue erupted from your body, and you were falling backwards, arms still clutching Tooth for dear life. 

 

You both flew sideways, away from the collapsing wall; You were not fast enough, though, for the wall to miss smashing into Tooth’s head.

 

Like an egg cracking in your hand, Tooth’s body was gone in a puff of dust, leaving only a familiar shimmering heart behind. 

 

You couldn’t breath anymore as your hands flew across each other, no longer holding anything between them. Your heart jumped to your ears as you reached out through the dust for Tooth’s heart. Your fingers just barely brushed it before it shattered into a million pieces in front of you, each piece swirling through the air toward you, and fading when they touched your hand. 

 

You couldn’t even call out their name before your shock let the static fully engulfed your brain, sending waves of rolling lightning through your mind. You were still falling, but you couldn’t tell anymore; the world felt unreal, and you knew you were going before you were completely gone. 

 

The last things you remembered were static, stronger than ever, a sense of power entering your fingers and coursing through your veins, a white  _ something _ appearing in front of you, and despair. 

 

A mind numbing, throat choking, silent screaming, heart stopping despair.

 

And a gentle voice whispering words you couldn’t understand, but gave you comfort anyway. 

 

____________________

____________________

 

The blaring sirens of the fire-truck rang through the air, alleviating just a bit of Max’s soaring heart. He sprinted up toward them as the truck stopped, Whimsum in his arms, screaming before he even reached them. 

 

“My friend ran in there!” He yelled, eyes wide and panicked. A fireman jumped from the truck, and ran past him with only a quick hand to his shoulder. 

 

“We’ll take care of it,” He had said. Other firemen jumped from the vehicle, all passing him in perfectly trained urgency. He could see the Fire-Temmies with fire-hoses, extending their legs to reach higher up areas.

 

Hoses. Fire Hydrant, Water; they did not help Max’s worried mind any bit. You were somewhere in there, possibly already dead, and no amount of water could stop that. The sight of at least one fireman entering the building helped his heart calm just a little. 

 

It jumped straight back up at the sound of a second explosion, and his head swung upward. White light, almost straight out of one of his DC comics, but somehow  _ much scarier _ and  _ much larger _ , shot from the third floor, disintegrating an entire section of the building, leaving a cone of nothing. Literally nothing. 

 

No debris, no fire, nothing. 

 

Nothing but a figure floating in the air at the origin of the blast, slack as if unconscious, and two white  _ things _ floating on either side of their head. Whimsum twitched in Max’s arms, and weakly whispered your name. Max’s heart leaped into his throat, and he squinted his eyes at the figure, which was now slowly descending through the empty cone. As it got closer, Max repeated Whimsum’s cry, but much louder. He ran toward the building, calling your name again. 

 

As you got closer to the ground, his heart beat faster and faster. He could see state your body was in; You were burnt everywhere, almost unrecognizable behind the scorched skin. You were covered in blood; it dripped from your form to the ground in droves. Your face was the only thing he could recognize, but even it was in bad shape; blood trailed from the left side of your forehead to your eye, and your other eye seemed to cry bloody tears. He concluded that if you weren’t dead already, you would be soon. The white  _ things _ on either side of you were close enough for him to see them now; they seemed to be animal skulls of  _ some _ sort, and they hovered around you as if they were protecting you, spinning from one side to the other. If the fire popped or crackled too close to you for their liking, they opened their maws and shot more white-hot energy, vaporizing the flames and debris. 

 

You were getting closer to the ground now, still limp. Max ran toward you, but was not fast enough. When your feet touched the ground, the spell seemed to end; the skulls blinked out of existence and you collapsed to the ground in a heap. He was almost to you when he was passed by someone. 

 

Someone LARGE and FAST.

 

He continued running, but watched as your limp body was lifted from the ground by what looked like a 10 foot skeleton. You were limp, head lolling to the side and arm hanging from the Skeletons grip. Max reached you soon after, stopping in front of the skeleton as he stood and turned around. 

 

“That’s my friend!” Max shouted, reaching out his hand to you. The skeleton didn’t pause for Max as he ran past him. Max juked, easily keeping up with him via the adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

 

“YOUR FRIEND IS IN CRITICAL CONDITION!” the skeleton yelled. “I MUST GET HER TO AN AMBULANCE!” 

 

“Will she be alright?” Max yelled back, chest burning. 

 

“I AM NOT SURE, HUMAN!” The skeleton responded, reaching the ambulance. The doors burst open, and one human and one Whimsalot slid out a stretcher. You were quickly placed on it. The skeleton turned to the EMT. “SHE HAS NO BROKEN BONES,” the skeleton reported. The EMT nodded in response, and began strapping you down to the stretcher.

 

“Thanks Papyrus,” The EMT said, and Papyrus beamed. 

 

“I’M GLAD i CAN BE OF ASSISTANCE! ALSO,” Papyrus turned to Max. “THIS IS THE ALL POWERFUL ______’S FRIEND! PLEASE LET HIM RIDE WITH YOU!” 

 

Max looked up, shocked that the skeleton, Papyrus (?) knew you. He let out a relieved sigh, though, when the EMT motioned for Max to enter the vehicle. They wheel the stretcher back into the ambulance, and are about to close the doors when Papyrus speaks again. 

 

“PLEASE GIVE THE HUMAN MY PHONE NUMBER SO HE MAY CALL ME AND INFORM ME OF ______’S CONDITION LATER!” He asks Whimsalot, and the flying EMT nods. With that, the doors close, and the ambulance and Papyrus are off, both trying their best to save as many lives as possible. 

 

__________________

__________________

 

Sans did not have a good day that day. 

 

You had not come to the library that day, and despite all his texting, you did not answer. He had begun to wonder if he had done  _ something _ wrong... He told himself to not worry about it, but despite that, he worried. 

 

A lot. 

 

The entire day consisted of his sour mood pissing off college students and other teachers alike, which only soured his mood more. 

 

By the time he got off, he angrily decided he deserved a visit to Grillby’s. When he reached his favorite joint, though, he was upset even more. The restaurant was nearly empty, his name wasn’t called in joy, and the people who  _ were _ there seemed... off... Which pissed him off. Even Grillby seemed peeved today, constantly watching the TV in the corner, which was apparently broadcasting the latest updates on a fire downtown. Of course there’d be a fire on the worst day in history. Sans didn’t even bother watching the news. It was just  _ one of those days _ , he guessed. 

 

So, when he got home, and Papyrus wasn’t there, which meant he was late by at least an hour, Sans felt the entirety of the day finally crush him. He crashed into the couch, and resigned himself to not move for at least a day. When Papyrus got home, he would ask him to not make dinner, and just “chill.” 

 

Chilling with his little brother always made him happier. 

 

Papyrus didn’t come home after an hour. Papyrus didn’t come home after 2 hours. It was the third hour that Sans began to worry, sending his brother a few texts, asking him where he was. 

 

By the fifth hour, he had called Papyrus a couple dozen times. It was at the start of the sixth hour that Papyrus finally answered with a booming “HELLO SANS! I APOLOGIZE FOR NOT ANSWERI-”

 

“Where the fuck are you, bro? I’ve been worried sick!” 

 

“I APOLOGIZE, BROTHER, BUT SOMETHING OF GREAT URGENCY HAD COME UP!” 

 

“Too urgent to call your worrying brother?” Sans spat, huffing out a breath. 

 

“WELL, YES, ACTUALLY. HOSPITALS TO NOT ALLOW PHONES IN THE DOCTOR-Y AREA. SO, OBVIOUSLY, I COULD NOT CALL YOU!” Papyrus sounded slightly offended, and Sans felt a twinge of guilt before Papyrus’s words finally registered in his head. 

 

“Wait you’re at the  _ hospital? _ Papyrus what happened?” Sans’ voice shook in worry, and he was standing in half a second, “What hospital are you at?” 

 

“NOT TO WORRY, MY BROTHER, I AM NOT INJURED!” Papyrus answered, causing Sans to pause. “I AM SIMPLY MAKING SURE OUR FRIEND IS OKAY! I HAVE FINALLY BEEN APPROVED TO VISIT HER ON THE GROUNDS THAT I WAS THE ONE THAT HEL-” Papyrus babbled on as Sans processed Papyrus’s words. He said  _ their _ friend.... You had not shown up at all that day... you were not answering your texts... a gas leak in your apartment downtown.... a fire... in an apartment... downtown.... Sans put two and two together, and his bones rattled as he whispered your name. 

 

“PRECISELY!” Papyrus said, “SO NATURALLY I HAD TO VISIT HER! I FIGURED I SHOULD CALL YOU BEFORE I WENT IN TO TELL YOU THAT I AM FINE!” 

 

“What hospital?” 

 

“OH! DREMURR-” Papyrus was cut off by a loud popping sound, and he frowned. “SANS! YOU CANNOT JUST TELEPORT INTO A HOSPI-”

 

“I’m here.” Sans said, standing in the middle of the waiting room of the hospital, surrounded by humans and monsters, the humans staring at him as if he had just popped out of nowhere. “Where are you?” 

 

“WELL-” Sans heard the echo, and whipped around. Papyrus stood in the corner of the room, phone to his ear, face scrunched up in nerves. 

 

“Nevermind I see you.” Sans said, hanging up and swiftly walking over to his brother. He grabbed Papyrus’s hand, and marched to the back doors. “Let’s go.” Sans said, but was surprised when Papyrus ripped his hand from Sans’s grip. 

 

“BROTHER!” Papyrus interjected, stopping Sans in his tracks. “YOU MAY NOT GO WITH ME! ONLY AUTHORIZED PEOPLE CAN VISIT RIGHT NOW! AND YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED!” 

 

“......oh.” Sans deflated. 

 

“BESIDES!” Papyrus slapped his hands on Sans’s shoulders. “I HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT SHE IS NOT EVEN AWAKE YET!” Sans’s eyes grew wide. Was she in  _ that  _ bad of a condition? Papyrus scratched the back of his head nervously, “WHICH MAKES SENSE WITH HOW MUCH DAMAGE HER BODY HAS TAKEN. IT IS ONLY BECAUSE OF WHIMSALOT’S MIRACLES AND THE MAGIC INFUSED BURN BATH THAT SHE IS EVEN ALIVE!” Yes. she was in  _ that _ bad of a condition. 

 

“Is she gonna...” Sans trailed off. 

 

“She may still die,” Papyrus’s voice was uncharacteristically low, and his face fell in worry. “That’s why they brought her  _ here _ ...” 

 

“...oh.” 

 

“I must go visit her, Sans. Her friend is waiting for me.” 

 

“....yeah....go ahead...” 

 

“I will be back soon. You can visit her when she wakes up. I’ve been told they think she may wake up in a couple of days.” 

 

“...ok.” 

 

Sans felt Papyrus’s hand squeeze his shoulder. “They’re doing everything they can.” His brother said quietly, and Sans looked up to meet Papyrus’s eyes. “She’ll be okay,” He muttered, and Sans could only nod before the other skeleton left him, walking through the large double doors. 

 

Sans glanced around the room, mouth tightening into a straight line at all the faces turned in his direction. He gave a random person a short wave, and found a seat near the door. He plopped his head into his hands, and let out a long sigh. Why was he so worried about this person he barely knows? Was it because Papyrus liked you? Was it because he thought you were  somehow connected with his father? Was it the purity of your soul? Your friends? Did he pity you for your health problems? 

 

He shook that last thought off, frowning at himself. No person deserved pity for their weaknesses, especially you. You were strong, optimistic, happy despite your circumstances. You seemed to take everything in stride; he had seen your apartment - how small it was - and yet you seemed completely fine with it. Yeah, you commented on how you didn’t really like being home, but that was it. No whining, no complaining. You even seemed happy about your neighbors and your position. You didn’t mind being stuck in a library for 8 hours straight, or getting food poisoning in a near-stranger's home. 

 

It reminded him of Frisk’s determination, and yet it was completely different. Determination, he knew, was the strength to go on despite feeling you couldn’t. Resolute. As if you knew you had a purpose, and you wouldn’t stop despite the odds against you. 

 

You were different, though. You didn’t think you couldn’t keep going. You didn’t have a reason  _ to _ be determined. There was no pause for you, no thought that you couldn’t do something,  _ anything _ . You didn’t have a single, sole purpose you were determinedly striving toward with your very being. You just existed. Despite your stubbornness, despite your health. 

 

A word popped into Sans’ head, and he nodded to himself. You were not determined. 

 

Sans felt his soul relax inside his chest when he realized the nature of your soul, your color; there was no way you would die here. 

 

You were resilient. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the chapter title. I'm sorry. 
> 
> I'm sorry. 
> 
> Summary:   
> Reader runs into the building to save tooth. They get seriously injured while trying to find Tooth, but a mysterious voice in their head tells them what directions to go to find Tooth. Reader finds Tooth, and tries to save them, but are unable to. Tooth dies, and Reader is saved by blue magic. The sudden burst of emotion and panic makes Reader have a seizure. 
> 
> Max calls 911, firefighters come to save the day. A giant (Gaster blaster) blast wipes out a large portion of the building, and Reader descends from the origin of the blast, unconscious, close to death, and with a gaster-blaster on either side of her head. She collapses once she touches the ground, and 10 FOOT TALL FIREFIGHTER PAPYRUS reaches them before Max does. Pap picks reader up, carries them to the ambulance, and she's off. 
> 
> Sans is upset because Reader did not show up to the library. He pisses off quite a few visitors because he's upset. He goes to grillby's; everyone there is solemn, which pisses him off more. He goes home, and Papyrus is late coming home by 5 hours. He angrily calls papyrus to find out that Reader is in the hospital. He teleports to the hospital only to find out that, while Papyrus can visit her, Sans cannot. Sans sits in the waiting room, waiting for Papyrus to return, and thinks about Reader. He comes to the conclusion that, despite the odds, he knows you will survive because you are RESILIENT. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also I have the next chapter written already, but I'm holding it captive for a couple of days just because I need you to suffer for a while.


	8. Nothing happens in this chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally nothing. Absolutely nothing. 
> 
> No time passes. 
> 
> No people move. 
> 
> This chapter itself shouldn't exist. 
> 
> .... but it does. 
> 
> It's BECAUSE nothing happens that we may actually begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys. 
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/youlearntolivewithit
> 
>  
> 
> also. 2 CHAPTERS IN 2 DAYS LOOK AT THAT I'M ON FUCKING FIRE! 
> 
> Oh shit was that too soon?

“Resilient one.” 

 

consciousness eluded you, but you were at least aware that you existed now. You knew, for some reason, that you should be alarmed and upset, but instead, you felt nothing. Not dull, or numb, just... nothing. 

 

“Wake up.” You heard a voice, and the haziness of your mind fought against it, calling you back into the void. You succumbed. 

 

“Please wake up,” The voice spoke again, an anchor in the sea of your swimming conscious.You were coming to, if only slightly. Your mind was fading back into existence, slowly but surely. Your eyes were already open, staring at nothing in particular, but you were finally able to take control of them again, and actually look around. Your body slowly came under your control as well, and you could feel a hand on your cheek. Your eyes flicked to the wrist of the hand touching you, and paused when you noticed it was not  connected to a body. The hand tapped your cheek lightly, and you looked away from it when another figure swam into view in front of you. The world was still hazy around the edges, not fully real perse, but the figure in front of you was sharp. You wanted to look at it, to understand what was in front of you, but no matter how long you looked, you couldn’t quite process it. It looked relieved though. 

 

“You would have died without me,” The voice accused, slightly angry but mostly relieved, hand still patting your cheek. “Why would you do something like that?” 

 

Like what? What did you do? You couldn’t remember anything. 

 

“You will soon, child. You will soon.” the hand removed itself from your face, and rested on your shoulder instead. “You worried me,” the voice shakily whispered, hand tightening on your shoulder. “It seems I have grown attached to you, in the emotional sense...” The voice sounded introspective, worried, loving. It confused you. 

 

You were floating in nothingness, broken by only the figure. The longer you looked, the less confusing it was. The fig-...person. Yes, it was a person. A... Skeleton? Was it? Yes. Yes it was. It...he-based on his voice alone- was broken. The cracks on his face and the wilted eye looked more like scars than they did open wounds. His face was much more frightening than the other skeletons you knew, but for some reason, you trusted this one more, felt attached to it. 

 

The figure in front of you let out a weird snorting sound, as if offended. “Well of course you would.” He leaned away from you slightly, face shifting into a bit of a smile, “We’ve been together much longer than you have with my sons.” the skeleton floated away from you, and crossed his legs, “sitting” on nothing. You couldn’t help but imagine a couch under his legs, and just as you imagined it, there it was. “Ah. Much better,” he said, relaxing into the seat, “But maybe a full room would create a better atmosphere for our official meeting?” 

 

Like  _ not _ thinking of a pink elephant, you thought of an entire room. Just as you imagined it, there it was. Walls came from nowhere, adorned with paintings of random memories, and  cutting off the nothingness from both of you, leaving you with a defined space. A second seat appeared under you -a smaller couch, more like a cushioned chair- and you fell into it, gravity suddenly existing. The skeleton reached out his hand, as if reaching for a cup on a table next to him. By the time his hand reached where the table should be, a cup (and a table) was there. It was a steaming white mug, just as you had imagined, and your company gently took it in his hands, bringing it to his mouth. He took a sip, and scrunched his face. “Ah. Coffee. I was hoping for tea, but I will not look a gift “figment of your imagination” in the mouth.” He took a second sip, smiling at his own joke over the lip of the mug. He looked so proud of himself, you couldn’t help but smile. His eyes flickered to you, and he smiled just a bit wider before pulling the cup from his lips and letting out a soft sigh of content. “This is much better than floating in nothingness, if I might say.” You nodded, then scrunched your face in confusion. Watching this man as he enjoyed his beverage, you couldn’t help but but notice that he was sitting very comfortably and regally, as if he were perfectly use to existing in this mass of nothingness. He also seemed to not react at all to the sudden existence of random items...

 

“They come from your mind, dear.” The skeleton provided for you. “Or, actually, not your mind, but rather the part of the void where incorporeal ideas take space in nothingness.” 

 

What?? 

 

The skeleton chuckled, uncrossing his legs and standing. “Let me make some tea for us; we will be here for a while.” He paused, pondering for a moment, and then looked at you. “It may be difficult to maintain two different rooms simultaneously.” He took a step closer to you, and held a hand in invitation to help you up, his smile still warm as ever. “Won’t you come to the kitchen with me?” Without pause, you took his hand, and he helped you up, leading you toward a door you  _ swore _ was not there before. He opened it, and,  just as you suspected, led you into the kitchen. He released your hand after closing the door behind you, and you meandered to a seat, him to a stove, where a teapot already waited. He hummed softly as he turned on the heat. 

 

“I believe some chamomile tea would do us both some good. Don’t you agree?” He turned to you in question, and you were drawn from your confused stupor. 

 

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered, “thanks.” He nodded. 

 

“Where is the tea, dear?” He asked, and you had to look around. This room... looked like the kitchen of your mother's house! Which meant the tea...

 

“The cupboard right next to the sink,” You answered, and when the skeleton opened the cupboard, there it was. You smiled proudly. Nothing had changed, then. 

 

“Well nothing really  _ can _ change, little one.” He explained as he calmly pulled out the box of tea. He continued talking as he worked, easily moving about the room. “This is not your mothers kitchen, but rather a memory of the kitchen,” He walked back to the stove, and pulled the teapot off the burner. He poured the hot water into two mugs (Where did they....?), and placed a tea-bag in each cup. “A carbon copy, if you will, of how your mind portrays this room in the  _ exact  _ moment your mind is portraying it.” A mug in each hand, he joined you at the kitchen table, and handed you your tea. You  took it and placed it on the table next to you, letting it steep. The skeleton did the same. “So you imagine it right now as how it was, and here it is!” His hands waved outward, motioning to the room before they fell into his lap. 

 

You squinted your eyes, trying to keep up with his intertwining words. Your confusion was interrupted by a soft chuckle. “I apologize,” He said, lifting his cup and taking a sip. He retracted sharply, frowning as he looked at the cup. He blew on it for a few moments before giving up and setting it down. “I am getting ahead of myself, assuming you know what I do simply because you are here when I am....” He placed the cup down. “I should probably start at the beginning. An introduction is in order.” He reached out his hand, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the perfect holes in his palm. “I am Gaster, former Royal Scientist for King Asgore, and inhabitant of the void of your mind.” 

 

“Uhh,” you so gracefully responded, and hesitantly took his hand. You were not worried, you admitted to yourself. This man did not scare you. You were just  _ confused _ . 

 

“You are confused,” Gaster said, and you looked up to give him the “No shit sherlock” face. He chuckled again, and placed his other palm across the top of your hand. “Let me help you understand more clearly.” He leaned forward slightly, cradling your hand patiently, “Ask me whatever you want.” 

 

There was a calm silence between you two, you taking in his words and then thinking, him patiently waiting for your questions. 

 

Finally, “where am I?” 

 

“Too complicated to answer. I will explain that later.” (You frowned. He shrugged and smiled guiltily)

 

“Who are you?” 

 

“I just told you.” (You huffed. He chuckled. It sounded familiar even if you’d never heard it before. It was...comforting?)

 

“What am I doing here?” 

 

“Well, you’re dying, actually,” He said matter-of-factly. You felt that you should be panicking at his words, but you didn’t. It felt like you already knew that piece of information, but at this moment, it was practically  _ impossible _ for it to bother you (That bothered you, but you ignored it). “Because of your current state of...ah... you know... you have faded from the real world, and retracted into your mind.” Gaster released your hand and leaned back, reaching for his tea once more. You assumed it had probably cooled down enough for him to drink, and, as you thought, so it was. He happily sipped, and hummed at the warmth. “Normally, being nearly dead just makes your conscious cease to exist temporarily,” He paused, setting the cup down, “but since I am here, it can’t. Else I would disappear as well, and as I am corporeal, that goes against the laws of physics.... At least... I think...” He gave you a nervous half-smile, “I do not have all the rules of the Void down pat. It’s nature has a tendency to elude me.” 

 

“Hmm,” you answered, not fully understanding in the same way he didn’t, but accepting it and moving on. “What are YOU doing here?” You continued, and his eyes pinched, mouth pulling into a line. 

 

“Well,” He paused, wringing his hands together, “It’s a bit of a long story...” 

 

“I think I have time,” You joked, leaning back and relaxing into the chair, finally sipping at your own drink. It was exactly how you wanted it. Perfect temperature, perfect steep level, perfect everything. 

 

“Very well.” He shrugged, “I made a mistake many years ago, and that mistake ripped me from Time asd space. I ended up being stuck in the realm of impossibility. Literally nothingness, if you will.” You gave him an odd look, and he gave a smiling grimace. “Suspend your disbelief, please?” You pondered for a moment, and then nodded. He continued, voice speeding up, “I have been stuck in this nothingness for a very long time, just floating aimlessly. It seems, when the barrier broke, the void expanded in size, if that makes sense... You’re right, it doesn’t, but bear with me.” He rambled, cheeks lighting up purple a bit in self-consciousness at his jumbled thoughts. How you knew that was his emotions at that moment, you weren’t fully sure, but you accepted it. Accepting things seemed much easier right now. “I saw for the first time thoughts in the void. I didn’t understand what they were, but I assumed they were a strictly human phenomenon, and that’s why I hadn’t seen them before.” He rambled, words  _ still  _ speeding up. You were losing track, “I thought if I could connec-”

 

“Wait.” You stopped him, holding your hands up. He stopped, face lighting up even more purple before he calmed down.  “Thoughts?” you asked, and realization passed over his face. 

 

“Ah. Right.” Maybe his face was just naturally purple? “I have yet to explain that to you.” He gave you a guilty smile, and you returned it. He continued, “To explain thoughts, I first need to make you understand a concept.” You nodded, ushering him to continue. He did. “Tell me, ________, when you think of a ladder, does it exist?” 

 

“No?” You answered, glancing to the side when a ladder appeared in the corner of the kitchen. 

 

“Correct. Just because you think of an object does not make it corporeal. Well... not outside of this area, i mean.” He glanced at the ladder as well, “But a thought is still a thought, yes?” 

 

You didn’t answer, just listening. Well, actually you had no idea how to answer that last question. You gave him a helpless smile, and he responded with a frustrated frown.

 

“That didn’t make sense, did it?” You shook your head. “Alright... let me think of a different way to....” His eyes lit up, “Tell me, what is a thought?” 

 

“It’s a.... uhh... It’s an idea?” 

 

“And what is an idea?” 

 

“..... A.... thing that happens in a mind?” 

 

“True, but what happens when a thought occurs? Is there a projector in your mind shining your thoughts against your eyes?” He leaned against the table, raising an eyebrow at you. His smile was brighter now, excited even. “Do tiny ladders pop into existence somewhere in your frontal lobe?” 

 

“...no?” Tiny ladders danced atop the table. Both you and Gaster looked at them for a moment, watching them scitter across the flat surface, some even lightly tapping against your cup. You both looked away at the same time, and you shook off your distraction, more sure in your answer. “No.” 

 

“Exactly. So, in essence, a thought is  _ nothing _ , correct?” He pointed at you, eyebrows raised in question, eyes wide.  You didn’t answer, still trying to understand. “It doesn’t exist, it doesn’t alter corporeality, it doesn’t  _ affect anything _ .” His voice was nearly an octave higher in excitement, and it was absolutely adorable. “Science can explain how thoughts are created in the mind, and where the thoughts  _ come from  _ in the brain, but they cannot explain much more than that.” He leaned back, “The  _ information _ that a thought produces  _ practically  _ comes from  _ nowhere. _ It’s directly tied with the void, do you understand?” 

 

“I... I think?” 

 

“Of course you do, you’re a smart woman. You just aren’t sure if you do or not. Don’t worry. You do.” 

 

“....okay?” 

 

“Yes. Alright then. When the barrier broke, I experienced Human thoughts for the first time, and noticed that they were much more  _ real _ than a monster’s thoughts. I wasn’t, and still aren’t, able to understand why this is true, but I saw the chance for my escape from the void for the first time in forever, so I didn’t really mind” He paused, hand reaching for his tea again. He looked at it, and frowned slightly. The steam had stopped rolling from the top. 

 

“Ah. If only the tea were hotter.” The rolling steam began again, and Gaster gave you a knowing grin, lifting the cup. You began to realize the  _ fun _ you could have with this area... “Hold on, dear. Let me finish and talk with you about a few more items, and then we can have fun.” 

 

You pouted. 

 

“Anyway,” He ignored your pout, “I tried to connect with many different thoughts, but they crumbled under my touch. I figured my idea was for naught, and tried one last thought before I resigned myself to quit. 

“That thought, luckily, was yours.” He gave you a smile over the rim of his mug. “You are much more resilient than the other minds I reached out to. You didn’t shy away from my presence, didn’t lose yourself with my touch. So...” he trailed off, giving you a nervous, guilty glance. You put two and two together rather quickly. 

 

“You set up shop in my head.” You stated, watching his eyes widen in alarm, as if that weren’t the conclusion he wanted you to come to.

 

“Well yes, but that’s not the poi-”

 

“You are the cause of my seizures.” You realized slowly, eyes wide. He visibly flinched.

 

“Well, probably, but it wa-” 

 

“You are the random thoughts in my head that don’t make sense!” You were getting louder, and he slinked away from you. You could feel your chest tightening up; Not in anger, but tight nonetheless. Anxiety? Distrust? Confusion? 

 

Betrayal. 

 

“Now now, let’s just calm dow-” 

 

“You-” You froze up, memories of the burning building finally flooding back into your mind. You remembered the begging for you to turn around that wasn’t yours. The urges to go right and left and forward. Your chest relaxed a bit, and you realized you were half out of your chair. The walls of the kitchen had almost completely faded away, leaving you, the two chairs, and Gaster. You took a soft breath, and the room slowly returned. You seated yourself again. Gaster looked panicked, and had literally shrunk into himself, his body losing its corporeality for something much... goopier. Your voice grew softer, calmer. “You led me through the building.” He looked up, shocked. “Before, I mean.” He closed his mouth, realizing that he should just let you come to your own conclusions. Your mind was racing, “You were trying to warn me, to protect me...” 

 

“I have grown fond of you, _____.” he answered softly, anxiously meeting your gaze. You blankly stared at him. “I have been connected to you for a year and a half now... If I didn’t grow fond of you after so long, there would have to be something seriously wrong with one or both of us.” He gave you a soft smile nearly whispering “You are important to me now.” He reached for his mug again, and his hand swiped through nothing, the table no longer existing. He drew his hand back to his lap, looking down. 

 

“Gaster,” You breathed, “Is that why I feel like I’ve known you for so long? Why I can trust you so easily?” 

 

“Well, besides the fact that you trust basically  _ anyone _ ” his voice was sarcastic for a moment before it grew soft again “Whenever my existence overwhelmed you, and you, ah, “fell,” I would try to keep you safe with what little control I had....” His eyes trailed from the side to your knees; that was all the courage he could muster. “Sometimes, I even talked to you... It was nice, to speak to someone, even if you never remembered.” He sounded sad now. Lonely. Your heart strings were successfully pulled. “Sometimes, you even acknowledged me, if only for a moment.” His mouth pulled into the smallest smile, and you swore you saw tears prickling at his eyes. He looked so... so.....You leaned forward, placing a hand on his knee. 

 

“Gaster,” You said again, this time consoling. “You’ve been alone for so long...” His breath hitched, and he looked up to meet your eyes. “It’s been decades,” Tears finally spilled over, and his face contorted into pure despair. 

 

“I’m sorry,” He spoke, voice shaking lightly with tears. “I was selfish,” He wiped a tear away, only for it to be replaced by another. “I caused you so much inconvenience.” 

 

“Yeah,” you agreed, tilting your head to the side and nodding a bit. “You did.” He flinched, but continued. 

 

“I was the reason you lost your license.” 

 

“Yeah...” you agreed, nodding a bit. He deflated. 

 

“And the reason your mother was so controlling...” 

 

“Yeah...yeah...” You could feel annoyance prickling. 

 

“And i was the reason you had to get on disability.” 

 

“Gaster,” 

 

“And you can’t even afford a real apartment becau-”

 

“Okay buddy you can stop now!” you grabbed his shoulders, letting out an awkward laugh as you pulled him into a hug. He stuttered, pulling away slightly, but you tighten your grip. You could feel his thoughts in your mind; he did not want to be let go, but he did not want you to hate him either. “Look, Gaster.” You spoke, and he stilled. “I’m pretty peeved at you.” 

 

“As you should be,” He said, voice filled with self-loathing. 

 

“Like. Really peeved.” 

 

“Understandable.” 

 

“Pretty angry, actually.” 

 

“....”

 

“ _ Very  _ angry.” 

 

“I kno-”

 

“I’m pretty fuckin’ Pissed!” He flinched, pulling away again, but you didn’t let him go. 

 

“BUT!” You continued, and he stilled again. “For all the trouble you’ve caused me, you’ve also given me many good things as well.” You pat his back a bit, nodding to yourself. You could feel his confusion rolling off him in waves. 

 

“You made me realize how much of a  _ nut job _ my mother is,” You put out a finger despite him being unable to see it, “You gave me a reason to finally learn how to take care of myself,” A second finger, “You spoke to me regularly, and despite me not remembering it, I still woke up feeling better than when I... uhh... fell down? Seizured? Collapsed? You know what I mean. That’s three, though,” You put out a third finger, “You let me meet Bratty, and Catty, and Tooth,” You paused, but pushed the lingering thought from your mind as you put up a fourth finger. “I get to be driven around everywhere. No more rush hour, Gaster! Do you have any idea how nice that is?” You put up a fifth finger, opening your palm and resting it softly on his back. “Sans and Papyrus get a finger each,” You smiled, “They’re your sons, right?” 

 

You felt Gaster nod against your shoulder, “They’re amazing men, you know that?” Another nod, and you pulled away from him, holding him by the shoulders. He still looked riddled with guilt, but he had calmed down, and had a small smile on his face. “You did what you had to, Gaster,” You continued, patting him on the shoulders twice before letting him go. “And I’m a pretty tough cookie!” You flexed one arm, patting your bicep with the other. “I’m still pissed,” He flinched, “but I’m not going to make you go back to your empty void again. That’d make me quite a bit of a dick.” 

 

“But-” 

 

“No buts ya’ dumbass!” You interrupted him, pouting a bit. He laughed; a real laugh that calms your soul. “In my book, you’re already a friend. I already like you. You just fucked up a bit, aight?” 

 

“A bit?” he questioned sarcastically, looking away from you. 

 

“Okay a lot a bit, but still.” You smiled at him. “Nothing a big ol’ apology and a few hundred cakes won’t fix.” He looked up at you in surprise, and you winked. “I’m a bitch for a good cake.” 

 

He blubbered out a laugh, and sat up straighter, wiping his face. You smiled, a weight on your chest fading away. Silence fell between you for a few moments before a soft thank you was muttered. You smiled again before coming up with an idea. “Hey,” You said, scooting forward in your chair. He looked up, questioningly. You bumped your knee against his. “I  _ kneed _ you.” He stared at you for a moment, dumbstuck, before he snorted, and then let out the loudest laugh you’d heard yet. Your chest swelled with pride. This guy was an easy audience. 

 

“Hey. I’m not  _ that  _ easy an audience.” 

 

“Okay you need to stop answering my thoughts it’s creepy.” 

“Sorry....” 

 

“It’s fine. Just don’t do it.” You gave him a smile, and then paused for a moment, remembering a very important tid-bit. “Hey Gaster?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

You paused. Would bringing this up make you wake up? Would it end your time here? You decided it wouldn’t, but hesitantly. “I’m here because i’m dying, right?” 

 

“...Yes....” He gave you a grimacing smile.

 

“......Am I going to die?” 

 

“I’m not sure yet,” he answered, “Based on what I can see, you have a 50/50 chance. But based on your resilience, i’d make it closer to 70/30.” 

 

“Hah! See? I’m so tough, I can even beat the odds!” 

 

“Well you may still di-”

 

“Shush. I beat the odds.” 

 

“But you didn’t, there's still a thirty percent chance that yo-”

 

“I. beat. The. Odds.” 

 

“...Okay. You beat the odds.” 

 

“Great!” You jumped from your seat, grabbing Gaster’s hands. “Then while we’re waiting for me to wake up and smell the burning flesh, let’s have some of that fun you said we could have!” You almost squealed, anger fully dissipated after the conversation, and with the idea of impossible amounts of fun ahead of you. You pulled Gaster from his seat, and he let out a little yelp of his own at your yank before chuckling again. 

 

“Fine, fine, we’ll have some fun.” 

 

“Yessssss! I’ve always wanted to pull a skeleton limb from limb!” 

 

“Wait hold on a momen-” 

 

“I’m kidding I’m kidding!” You joked, and you could see him sigh in relief.

 

“Well, mostly...” you trailed off. 

  
  
  


You decided to ignore the possible setbacks of having a skeleton that doesn’t exist exist in your head and cause not too favorable symptoms. 

 

That was a plot point to flesh out in later chapters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah.... 
> 
> I'm thinking of splitting this story here, and creating a reader/gaster story as well. 
> 
> Any yes's? Any fuckno's? 
> 
> Did anyone have trouble understanding Gaster's roundabout logic? 
> 
> Cuz I had to consult my local logic guru for help with this. (My significant other.)


	9. Sans and Sams is going to get confusing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You talk with Gaster for quite a while. Sans worries. Sams worries. Papyrus worries. Max worries. Everyone worries.   
> Then sans and sams. sans. sams. You know. That's gonna be hard. 
> 
> Also there's a thing on your back and a bunch of scars n stuff. You know. The usual life of a failed hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/youlearntolivewithit
> 
> Just saying. <3
> 
> Also sorry for the slow time to update, I've been struggling in PRECALC AND I WANT TO DIE! 
> 
> i'm an English major. I can't take this kind of abuse! 
> 
> *dies inside*   
> And guys! Almost 400 Kudos! So many hits! So much love! 
> 
> You keep me alive!!!

The bath shimmered a translucent blue and a swirling red. It made Max sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t make himself leave. You lay there, unconscious, only your face bobbing over the surface of the burn bath. Multiple monsters surrounded the bath, leaving only one spot for Max to silently watch while they filled the tub with healing magic, Papyrus close behind. He saw the magic working; it started at the edges of the massive burns, and knitted skin back together, but the amount of blood that poured out of both the burns and her wounds made him nearly unable to breath. The monsters grew tired quickly, and were nearly collapsing when a human walked in and relieved them to rest. The human, a large female, frowned when she saw the state of the water: more red than anything. She glanced over to Max, who stood there silently, sure his friend was dead or near dead. She sighed. 

 

“Why do they let people watch these things...” the woman muttered, placing a hand on Max’s shoulder. Max looked up, tears threatening to fall, and she gave him a knowing smile. “Hon. You should leave. We have to remove her from the bath, and it’s not going to be pretty. She’s not dead, and we may still be able to save her.” 

 

“But-”

 

“Sir. I understand your concern, but having you here will not increase her chances of living. It is better for you to not see her in this condition...” 

 

“.... Okay...” Max deflated. 

 

“DO NOT WORRY HUMAN!” Papyrus towered over both Max and the female doctor. “MY BROTHER AND I ARE HERE AS WELL! YOU MAY WAIT WITH US!” 

 

“....okay...” Max sighed, and trailed out after Papyrus, who had rested a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, fully engulfing it. 

 

The human, meanwhile, called in two nurses, and they got to work on removing your limp body from the bath. When they got you on a bed, she let out a heavy sigh. “How are you still alive?” she asked your unmoving form. She had seen many burns in her line of work, but  _ you.  _ You repulsed her. She shook her head. “Let’s get a Boss Doctor in here. She needs serious help.” 

 

“Yes’m” one of the nurses said, and the woman left the room, wiping her forehead. The doctor walked down the hallway of the hospital, trying to remove the image of you from her head. She was fully convinced you’d be dead in the hour. She passed the nurse as the nurse returned with a Boss Doctor, and she gave him a grimace. 

 

“It’s bad, Yule.” She warned him, and he gave her a curt nod, scales on his neck fluffing like feathers. 

 

“I’ll do my best,” He assured, and walked into your room, shutting the door behind him. 

 

________________

________________

The library seemed empty. It was odd, for Sans, to have it feel so empty after only one day of having you there, but it felt empty nonetheless. Maybe it was because he just  _ knew _ that someone he now knew was dying in a hospital, and he couldn’t even see them. Maybe it was the fact that he was curious about you; your possible but very probable connection with Gaster made him intrigued. 

 

Maybe it was the fact that you made a very strong impression on him, you had already sullied his bathroom, stole Papyrus’s heart, you lived in a tiny house, and he pitied you in the best way possible. So maybe the fact that his minimal connection to you wasn’t enough to give him access to your hospital room was upsetting to him. He had left that day when the Nurse came back and called Max in. Papyrus stood with Max, and gave him a pat on the back, telling him everything would be fine. Max gave him a soft, unsure smile, and then walked through the double doors. Papyrus and Sans went home after that. When Sans asked Papyrus how you were doing, Papyrus refused to answer, just giving him an unsure laugh and a “OH I’M SURE SHE’LL..UHH..WELL... WE’LL SEE!” Papyrus gave Sans a smile that made Sans feel like he was hiding something. After a second prod, Sans gave up. It wasn’t worth it at the moment. 

 

Papyrus’s vague answers did not help Sans’s worried mind at all. So now, as he sat in the library a day after your admittance, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. He had a book in his hands, but after reading the same paragraph over four times, he just gave up and let his mind wander (or sprint) to you. Were you okay? Were you healing properly? Were you awake? Were you dying? Oh shit were you dead? 

 

He choked, and set his book down with a frown, looking up at the clock. 10 minutes till he was off his shift. Maybe he’d go to the hospital after work, see if you were awake and taking visitors.... 

9 minutes... 8 minutes...

 

_____________

_____________

“So explain that again.” 

 

“Mmm?” 

 

“The existence thing.” 

 

“Why? You seem to understand it the first time.” 

 

“No no no I mean I want to... augh. Okay. So just listen. If I exist where nothing exists, doesn’t that mean I don’t exist as well?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Okay. That’s what you’ve told me so far. But now get this. What about things that don’t exist in Nothing?” 

 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

 

“Well. This is the place where things that don’t exist DO exist, right?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“So, where are the things that don’t exist  _ here? _ ” 

 

“There is nothing that doesn’t exist here, besides the things that  _ do _ exist.” 

 

“Yes but what if there  _ were _ things that didn’t exist here. Because, when I look around, there’s nothing here.” 

 

“Yes. There  _ is _ nothing here.” 

 

“No! I mean there’s nothing in Nothing. I don’t see anything around. Shouldn’t there be an innumerable amount of items, creations, ideas, and people here that never existed, or don’t exist yet?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“So why aren’t there?” 

 

“Well, this is a realm of infinite impossibilities, correct?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“So take into account our finite mental capacity as beings that exist in existence.” 

 

“.... Okay... Go on...”

 

“Now imagine taking a 2D character, and throwing them into a 3D world. They would be unable to understand the world they were placed into: they’ve never existed in a realm with a third dimension.” 

 

“Okay but what doe-”

 

“We run into the same dilemma when 4D items find their way into our visible dimension. We can see it, we can  _ sort of _ comprehend it, to the best of our ability, but we still cannot  _ understand  _ it. Take one look at a Tesseract, and you’ll understand. YOu can look at the tesseract for as long as you want, and it’ll make sense to your third dimension’s capacity, but there is no possibility of you understanding it further than that, in the same way a two dimensional being could never  _ truly  _ understand a sphere.” 

 

“Uhh...”

 

“Now with that information in account, I think you can understand that this place, Nothing, is an All-Encompassing realm. From the first to the tenth dimension, it’s all here.” 

 

“Okay...”

 

“If we can’t understand the fourth, what makes you think we can understand the fifth, or the sixth, or the ninth? It’s mentally impossible for us. Therefore, our mind makes it as understandable as possible.” 

 

“Nothing?”

 

“Exactly. What’s better than handling an overwhelming situation than pretending it’s not there?” 

 

“That doesn’t sound like the healthiest way to deal with an overwhelming situation.” 

 

“Yes but we’re not talking about emotional problems, but dimensional problems. They are very different beasts.” 

 

“Huh. You know what’s more interesting than that though?” 

 

“Hmm?”

“Nothing!” 

 

____________

____________

 

It had been 4 days now. 4 days of staring at the empty couch where you had set up shop, 4 days of wondering when you’d wake up.It was grating, to wait for someone he barely knew, hoping you would walk through those doors so he could get to know you better. 

 

He means... get to the bottom of your connection with Gaster. He let out a sigh, lifting his feet off the desk, and leaning forward, checking his phone. Nothing. Papyrus had grown worried at Sans’ constant visits to the hospital, so he got the phone number of your leading doctor, and asked him to text the two skeletons once you had woken up. Now, Sans checked his phone nearly every half-hour, frowning every time there was no new notifications. 

 

He sighed again, walking to the back of the library, and snagging his items. Guess he’d just hit up Grillby’s, and then call it a night... 

 

____________

____________

 

“So what if something was never  _ going _ to exist?” 

 

“Mmm?” 

 

“Like. I can understand things existing here that were going to eventually be invented. Say, the cellphone. It was here before it was real, right?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“So what about things that no one had even thought of? Something that is completely original.”

 

“Completely original doesn’t exist.” 

 

“.... It does here.” 

 

“Touche.” 

 

“Okay so it’s a completely original idea. Something no one has ever thought of. Does it exist here?” 

 

“Well. Tell me. Does thinking of something make it exist?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Precisely. Now. Does  _ not  _ thinking of something make it  _ not _ exist?” 

 

“...No?”

“Correct. Now. Does thinking of something make it  _ not  _ exist?” 

 

“I’m... no?” 

 

“Yes. Does  _ not  _ thinking of something make it exist?” 

 

“...no.” 

 

“Okay. So by that logic, we can come to the conclusion that thinking about something has no connection to it’s existence or not, correct?” 

 

“I... Yes? Yes.” 

 

“So why would no one thinking about something make it incapable of existing or not?” 

 

“I... I’m so confused.” 

 

“No you’re not dear. You just  _ think  _ you’re confused.” 

 

“....Stop that! My brain hurts...” 

 

“....I apologize.” 

 

“Forgiven. Just.. damn... you were talking me around in circles! At least gimme a moment to think!” 

 

“Alright, I’ll make sure to do that next time...” 

 

“Next time?” 

 

“It’s time for you to go now, my child.” 

 

“Ah.” 

 

____________

____________

 

You woke up after a week. Sans and Papyrus had gotten the text at the same time, a couple of hours after you had awoken, and were at the hospital as soon as possible (Sans: 20 seconds. Papyrus: about an hour). They both quickly asked to see you, and were shocked when they were denied. Papyrus was nearly in tears when the doctor told them that you were taking no visitors. Sans asked why, and the doctor gave no answer but a grimace. 

 

That didn’t bode well in Sans’s mind, and his mouth pulled into a line. He and Papyrus agreed to leave, and left the hospital... only for Sans to stop Papyrus once the doors closed after them. “Paps.” he whispered, pulling the enormous skeleton to the side. Papyrus stumbled a bit, but straightened himself once they were out from in front of the hospital. Papyrus opened his mouth to speak, but Sans didn’t let him. “Where’s her room?” He asked, eyes looking up to scan the windows above them. 

 

Papyrus let out a  _ very _ loud gasp, “SANS! YOU CAN’T BE THINKING OF-” 

 

“Paps shut up and tell me where the window is. Don’t you want to see her too?” 

 

“WELL YES, BUT-” 

 

“Then show me the window. We’re visiting her.” 

 

“.......” 

 

“Bro.” 

 

“FINE, SANS, BUT I MUST PUT IT ON THE RECORD RIGHT NOW THAT I DO NOT AGREE WITH YOUR TACTICS.” 

 

“Okay. I’m horrible. Woe is me for breaking laws. Now what window?” 

 

“THE BROKEN ONE!” 

 

“........” Sans looked up to see a window near the top of the building, broken and boarded up. “Did you-” 

 

“YES! THE DOCTORS REQUESTED THAT THE MALE HUMAN AND I LEAVE WHILE THEY WERE DOUSING OUR HUMAN IN MAGIC AND LIQUIDS. AFTER THE MALE HUMAN RETRIEVED HIS BACKPACK FROM ________’S ROOM, I TOOK HIM TO THE NEAREST EXIT...” Papyrus pointed upward, “THE WINDOW!!!” 

 

“From that high?” 

 

“OH YES! IT WAS EXHILARATING! EVEN THE HUMAN FOUND IT FUN, WITH HOW MUCH HE WAS SCREAMING IN JOY!” 

 

“I...” Sans couldn’t stop a chuckle as he pictured Max flailing as he fell from the... Sans looked up... 1..2...3...4...5th story floor! Damn. “Wow. He must have been  _ high  _ on excitement.” 

 

“SANS STOP WITH YOUR HORRIBLE PUNS AND GET US UP TO SEE OUR HUMAN BEFORE I DO!” 

 

“Heh. I’d rather not be tossed up 5 stories. Here.” Sans held out his hand, mind pulled back to you again. He frowned, and held his hand out for Papyrus. Papyrus grabbed it, and they both stepped into your room together. 

 

Your bed was right in front of the skeleton brothers, and Sans sucked in a breath as he realized why you weren’t taking visitors. He turned to Papyrus, trying to grab his hand and quickly take him out before you-

 

“OH I DID NOT REALIZE THE HUMAN WAS SLEEPING! THAT EXPLAINS WHY SHE WAS NOT TAKING VISIT- OH HELLO HUMAN! ARE YOU FINISHED WITH YOUR NAP?” 

 

Sans facepalmed, dragging the hand down his face as he groaned. You, heartbeat now calming down from the sudden noise, looked at Papyrus with drowsy eyes. 

 

“Uhh... I am now...” You blinked a few times, and then lifted a hand, still under the covers, to rub your eyes. “Sorry, sorry... what time is it?” 

 

“‘bout 5.” 

 

“Ah...” you mumbled, sniffing and scrunching your face, still trying to fully wake up. You let out a yawn, and then smacked your lips together a few times. You looked to the brothers. “You guys do realize you’ve gotten here and into my room before even my family, right?” 

 

“oh... yeah about that.” 

 

“you teleported in here, didn’t you?” 

 

“....... maybe.” 

 

“YES!” You laughed, sitting up a bit. The blanket covering you fell down to your lap, and Sans suppressed a gasp. Papyrus did not. “HUMAN YOU LOOK HORRIBLE!” Sans smacked Papyrus, “AH. ERR. I MEAN! YOU LOOK FANTASTIC! JUST VERY.. UHH...” 

 

“They did their best,” You smiled, lifting a hand and touching your shoulder. They  _ had  _ done their best; Your injuries were completely healed thanks to magic, and many scars were avoided, but you guessed Magic couldn’t do everything. Gaster had warned you about it before you woke up, but you still weren’t fully prepared when the doctors had given you a mirror. 

 

_________________

________________

 

You frowned at the memory. You had held the mirror in your hand, and gasped even louder than Papyrus. Your chest and collarbone was peppered with small scars; it looked like someone had sprinkled embers on you like they would salt food. Your neck fared a bit better, but you guessed that was because your hair had protected you. Your hair, though, was washed (thank god) but still looked horrible. It was long in some places, but mostly short  and charred. You didn’t think any amount of expensive haircuts could give you back the lushious locks you were so proud of before. Now it was just a horribly frizzy, terribly shaped  _ mess  _ that framed your horrified face. Your face seemed to fare better than the rest of your body (the doctor told you that they placed a lot more effort on your face because it “is the most important, dear!”) You couldn’t argue with them, and were relieved to see that you came out with minor scars at your hairline, one small one at the bridge of your nose that came  _ uncomfortably close  _ to your left eye, and one that cut diagonally right below your right earlobe. Each one looked fully healed but still relatively new; you hoped that copious amounts of lotion would help remove them completely. The rest of your body, other than your collar-bone and face, that is, were not as lucky. The first thing that you noticed was your shoulder. It had a nearly  _ glowing  _ red scar running across it, pinched at the edges and ragged and  _ terrifying _ . It took you quite a while to come to the terms that it was even  _ on _ your body, but it became easier as you looked at the rest of your body. Your arms (both the washed and ungashed ones) had bright pink skin,- smooth to the touch- marked up with small cuts from top to bottom. They also looked like they might just need some lotion. Your hands looked unnaturally perfect. The doctor looked pleased with himself as you looked at your front in amazement and shock, but when you began to turn to look at your back, he squeaked in alarm. 

 

“Wait!” he had nearly shouted, scaled fingers reaching out to stop you. You stopped, looking at him in concern. “I, uhh.. Well we spent a very long time on your front and arms because they needed the most work. We healed your back and legs, and did as much reconstruction as we could before you woke up, but it’s still not...” 

 

Your breath hitched, “Please, Doc. Let me see.” 

 

He hesitated before holding a second mirror out so you could see your back. 

 

You nearly fainted. 

 

“We have magic infused lotions that can help with the scarring, but even with that, you won’t ever be able to remove the imprint.” 

 

You didn’t need to ask him what the “imprint” was. You could see it, resting between your right shoulder blade and your spine, clear as day. 

 

A pure white, but faintly yellow, upside-down heart. 

 

Oh. 

 

You couldn’t breathe anymore; your chest was suddenly clutched with an iron grip set on killing you. 

 

“You know, when you came in, and we withdrew your soul to check on your status, almost everyone refused to help you,” The reptilian monster scratched the back of his head. “ We don’t get many humans here, let alone.. you know... They wanted to toss you out on the street, actually. You would have been, if it weren’t for laws...” You were barely listening to him, still staring at the yellow heart tattooed on your skin, memories flooding back into your mind and locking a silent scream in your throat. “Even then, we had only promised to keep you alive... but then, when we were removing your clothing, we saw the imprint....” He fell silent, letting the mirror he was holding droop in his hand. He walked around the bed so he could face you, and you saw the look on his face. It was pained, but grateful and awed. He looked shy now; he silently pulled at the hem of his scrubs. “We thought... it was the least we could do to try and heal you as much as possible, as thanks... and... I’m sorry they didn’t make it...”

 

You sucked in your tears and gave the doctor a soft smile. “Well. I tried....”

 

__________

__________

 

“So you’re saying your back and legs are worse?” 

 

“Yeah, but they said that it can get better if I put prescription lotion on the areas every day.” 

 

“Oh. Okay. Well then I guess it isn’t that bad.” 

 

“Well it’s still bad,” You shot Sans a wide grin, “But it’s nothing I can’t handle!” you flexed. “I’m a strong cookie!” 

 

“Well you’d better be, else this situation would be pretty  _ crummy _ .” 

 

“SANS!” Papyrus complained, and both you and the smaller skeleton laughed. 

 

“So, uhh,” Sans looked away casually, “The library has been pretty quiet without you there.” 

 

“The library is always quiet.” 

 

“well yeah but it’s quieter. Kinda empty, ya know?”

 

“That library is always empty.” 

 

“Kiddo.” You let out a soft laugh. 

 

“Yes okay I’m sorry.” You gave him a smile. 

 

“I forgive you. So. Are you coming back, now that you’re awake?” 

 

“MMmmmm... I’ll have to think of it...” You gave him a smile, and he couldn’t stop the smile back. 

 

“Don’t make me beg, you make my day less boring.” 

 

“Oh do I-” 

 

“I FEEL LEFT OUT FROM THIS CONVERSATION SO I AM GOING TO INTERJECT WITH  AN OFFERING OF SPAGHETTI SO YOU MAY HEAL FAST-” 

 

“Papyrus,” You cut him off, and he looked down at you guiltily, “I hate to say this, but I don’t think I can handle your cooking right now.” 

 

“OH...” 

 

“Buuuut,” You gave him a smile, “I may like a few more sleepovers,” You waggled your eyebrows, and laughed as Papyrus’s eyes tripled in size. 

 

“OF COURSE HUMAN! I AM A CONNOISSEUR OF SLEEPOVERS! AND NEXT TIME, YOU WILL SLUMBER IN UTMOST COMFORT! MEANING! NOT IN THE BATHROOM!” 

 

“I’ll hold you to it, TGP.” 

 

“TGP?” 

 

“The Great Papyrus. Is that a good nickname?” 

 

“nah too lon-”

 

“IT IS GREAT! TEE GEE PEE. I WILL ALLOW IT!” Papyrus bounded forward, throwing his arms around you in an engulfing hug, and you let out a grunt, patting his ribs lightly. 

 

“g-great! You-you’re kinda killin’ me though.” 

 

“OH!” Papyrus backed up, and you took a deep breath, letting it out with a wheeze. You did a quick mental check of your vitals, and let out a breath. You smiled up at Papyrus, giving him a thumbs up to tell him you were fine. He heaved a sigh of relief, wiping his brow of nonexistent sweat. 

 

“So when are they letting you outta here?” Sans cut in, plopping into a chair next to your bed. You looked at him. 

 

“Oh a day or two. I’m practically all set and healed, minus the perfectly pink skin of scars and such.” You let out an odd laugh, touching the healing scar on your shoulder. “soft as a baby’s bottom...” you trailed off, both laughing at and depressing yourself at the same time. Sans gave you a sympathetic look. 

 

“Where..uhh...” Sans rubbed the back of his skull. “Where are you going to stay... now that you’re apartment is gone...” He looked guilty, and you wondered for a moment. Oh. Right. He felt bad for bringing up the destruction of your shitty apartment. You let yourself chuckle a bit. There was nothing good about that shit-stain of a place, except for your neighbo-

 

Your chuckle died out just as fast as it started, and you could swear you felt an odd pressure in your upper back. Near the right side. 

 

Ah. 

 

The clutch around your heart was almost unbearable, but you were quick to dismiss it; you were fine. You were fine... 

 

“I’ve-” you faltered for a moment, and Sans looked at you, the seeds of concern beginning on his face. You whipped out your metaphorical hoe and tore them out. “I’ve got plans already!” You gave him a bright smile, “Max and Sams are always in my corner, and if push comes to shove, I can get a hotel for a couple of days while looking for a new apartment!” You continued smiling, holding your fist out, resolute. “The all powerful ____! Fighting!” Sans didn’t look too convinced. You shrugged, letting your smile relax. “I’ll be fine, Sans. I’m a strong cookie, remember?” 

 

“Yeah... Yeah... You can stay with us too, if ya’ want...” Sans trailed off, wondering if his offer was too presumptuous. 

 

“YES, HUMAN! YOU MAY ALWAYS “SHACK UP” AT OUR “PAD” UNTIL YOU ARE ABLE TO GET BACK TO YOUR FEET, IF NEED BE!” Papyrus cut in, and you looked at him with adoration in your eyes. 

 

“Oh I’m fine!” You waved him off. “We barely know each other.” 

 

Yup. Too presumptuous. “Well, uhh... if you change your mind,” Sans trailed off, and you gave a little chuckle. He huffed. 

 

“I’ll be fine! Both of you, geeze.” 

 

“Allright...” 

 

“OKAY...” 

 

“Well you don’t have to sound so upset about it!” You complained, waving your hand again. As you waved the duo off, you heard the door to your room open, and the quiet gasp of the nurse. 

 

“How did you get in here? The patient is sleepi-” 

 

“It’s fine, Whimsum. They’re friends.” 

 

“Miss!” Whimsum flittered in closer, and you looked at them with a smile. They were not the whimsum you helped from the fire, but each whimsum you had ever met had been a shy bundle of kindness, this one included. “You’re supposed to be resting! You only just recently woke up!” 

 

“Yes, but as you say, I have been sleeping for a week straight! I think it’s about time i spend some time awake, don’t you?” You smiled at the flittering monster, and they only frowned in response. 

 

“Miss!” 

 

“I’m fiiiinneeee!” You whined, and glanced at Sans for help. “I’m fine, right?” 

 

“You are  _ so  _ fine.” He winked, but you missed it as you turned to Whimsum. 

 

“See? Fine!” 

 

“That doesn’t mean anythi-”

 

“I’m fine.” You stated firmly, and Whimsum jumped a bit at your resolute tone of voice. “Please, Whimsum. let me meet with my new friends.” 

 

“.... alright. But you’d better be ready for your family! They’re here now!” 

 

“I will I will! They-well one of them knows Paps and Sans, so i’m sure it’ll be fine for them to meet!” You grinned. 

 

“Yeah, but are you sure ‘them’ want to share you?” a voice from right outside the door rang out, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as someone stepped through the door-frame. They were rather short, probably 5’3,” and at this moment, they looked like a ball of fury. “‘Them’ might have a  _ bone _ to pick with your sorry ass!” They nearly growled, walking further into the room, completely ignoring the two other visitors in the room, walking toward you with tunnel vision. When they reached your bedside, they pushed Sans away from you, taking his place. 

 

“woah, hey,” Sans said, “sorry I was in your wa-” 

 

“what. the. FUCK! were you thinking!?!?!?” They screamed, slapping your face between their hands and shaking you back and forth. “YOU COMPLETE BLUNDERING DUMBASS!”  Even Papyrus jumped at their voice, and took a step back. “NO ONE! NO ONE IS AS STUPID AS YOU!” they screeched, moving their hands from your face to your shoulder. “YOU COULD HAVE DIED!” Sans’s ears perked. What did you do that was so stupid? Did you stay in the apartment too long? 

 

“Yeah, heard that one already,” you mumbled, looking away wryly. 

 

“WELL YOU HAVEN’T HEARD IT FROM ME!” They shook you back and forth again, softly slamming you into the back of the bed. It wasn’t enough to hurt (at all), but it was enough to get across the fact that they were  _ furious.  _ “YOU FUCKING MORON! WHO RUNS INTO A FLAMING BUILDING?” Sam screamed. Sans almost audibly gasped as they continued, “ARE YOU SERIOUSLY THAT DUMB?” 

 

“Sam!” You interjected, frowning. “Tooth was-” 

 

“I don’t care about Tooth!” Sam hollered back, bringing their hands to either side of your face, making you look them straight in the eyes. “I care about  _ you _ .” They emphasized, and you fell silent, breaking eye contact. Their hands fell back to your shoulders, laying limp there as they leaned forward, resting their forehead against yours. “I thought... I thought i’d lost you,” they whimpered pathetically. Sans took another step back, feeling like he was interrupting something. 

 

“Hey... Hey...” you lifted a hand, and placed it on their head, ruffling their short, dark brown mess of hair. “You can’t lose me that easily.” 

 

“That. was not an easy way to lose you.” 

 

“Shhh...” You pet the back of their head, and almost laughed when you felt them jerk away. 

 

“Don’t patronize me! You’re the one who ran into a fire!” 

 

“Shhhhh!!!” You reached out your hands to grab them and pull them back, but they juked you. 

 

“Don’t. You. Dare.” they warned, frowning as they flopped into the Chair that Sans occupied earlier, mumbling about your stupidity. 

 

“Sam.” You said flatly. “I had to.” 

 

“No. You didn’t.” They retorted. “You didn’t  _ have _ to do anything.” You fell silent. You did. You really did, but it wasn’t worth arguing with them about it. Sam let out a sigh, crossing their arms and looking away from you, finally acknowledging the other people in the room. It only made them frown more. 

 

“Who are you?” They glared at Sans, and Sans could feel himself sweating already. He held out a hand. 

 

“H-hey. I’m Sans. Sans the skeleton. I’m a skele-ton of fun.” 

 

“NO BROTHER WHY!” 

 

Sam looked at Sans’ hand, untrusting.Their eyes trailed from San’s face to his hand, to his face, and back. Their eyes tightened, and Sans coughed. “I’m, uh, a friend of hers.” 

 

“Mmm?” Sam looked Sans up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Friend?” 

 

“OH MY GOD SAMS!” 

 

“If I said otherwise, i’d be telling a  _ fib _ ula.” 

 

“OH MY GOD SANS!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/youlearntolivewithit
> 
> Cuz. You know. 
> 
> And then! Then!   
> http://theta-mcbride.deviantart.com/art/Sans-Try-1-589540152  
> This is a reader Marina. I've been chit chattin, and she showed me this sans cosplay they're working on!   
> I liked it, so yeah!   
> I think this is where I'll split the two stories. Gaster and Sans. Still thinkin' about it :)


	10. A Home Less than a homeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhh. Fruitville?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took a week. I'm sick. Had a 3-year anniversary. *wheeze* sorry it took so long guys. 
> 
> uhh
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/youlearntolivewithit
> 
> CHECK OUT THIS FANART BY PUDDINGBREZEL IT'S FIREFIGHER PAPYRUS
> 
> ASDOPFINASDOIFNASDIOF IT'S ON THE TUMBLR CHECK IT OUT!

It had been a week more. 

 

A week more of an empty couch before you returned, Sams close behind. You walked through the door with different clothing, a different bag, but that same old bright smile. Sans nearly kicked everything off the table in his scrambling attempts to stand up. You and he had been texting on and off, but every time he asked if you were coming back, you had never answered. He had finally come to the conclusion that you just weren't. 

 

But now, with you walking through the door with your big ass grin and your glittering eyes, he had to second guess himself. Were you just trying to make him give up on you, so when you returned, he’d be all surprised? 

 

“SURPRISE!!” 

 

.... yup. 

 

“ohhh wow you surprised me,” Sans drawled lazily, and your smile dropped for a second before you walked up to the counter, and leaned against it. 

 

“You don’t seem too surprised,” you commented, and he shrugged. 

 

“Sorry, bud, I saw you through the window a couple of minutes ago.” 

 

“DAMN!” you slammed your fist mockingly into the desk. Sans let out a laugh. You had surprised him, but he wasn’t going to let onto that. 

 

“So,” He leaned forward a bit, giving a side glance to Sams for a moment. “Uhh...” He let his lazy smile fade away as his concern took over, “How are you... y’know... doing?” 

“Oh!” You said a bit louder than you should have, and then laughed... It sounded off... You lightly jabbed his ulna. “No worse than this morning, silly!” You laughed again, and Sans’ eye-lights flicked out for a moment. This morning? He was about to comment, but then he noticed the panicked look in your eyes, and the way you chewed on your lip, silently asking him to...

 

“Oh that’s great. Just worried since... your texts seemed kind of... uhh... off?” Nice save, Sans. Totally natural. He glanced over to your friend, and began to sweat when he noticed their skeptical glance. He gave a half-assed wave and a smile. “How you doin, Sam?” 

 

“Fine.” they said simply, looking between you and him a couple of times before letting out a tired sigh. They turned to you, and rested a hand on your shoulder. You looked over. “If you need anything, I’m in science today.” 

 

“I know,” you rolled your eyes. 

 

“‘m just saying.” Sam turned on Sans, and gave him a glare that shot down his spine in the most horrible way. “Now. Listen...skeleton.” Their eyes spoke death, and it prickled up Sans’s spine. 

 

“Ouch. No need for such racial slurs.” 

 

“Shush. Look.” Sams leaned over the counter, jabbing a finger at him. “If you hurt her. If you take advantage of her. If she dies on YOUR watch...I. Will. Kill. You.” 

 

“uhh...” Sans found himself at a loss for words because of a threat for the first time in a  _ very  _ long time. The look of absolute murder and protective-ness in their eyes shook his very core. “Y-yeah. Okay.” He wondered why he was getting this talk now. Maybe it was because you lived with them now, and they felt more protective of you? Maybe it was because you went through so much...

 

“Good.” Sams backed up a bit, and then began sifting through their bag. They pulled out a packet of paper, handing it to him. “Here’s both my numbers, Max’s number, her mom’s number,” That was the first paper. The second: “her medication list-” 

 

“SAM!” 

 

“The times of her medications,” 

 

“I only have 1!” You were outraged, flabbergasted. Sams finished with the second sheet, and handed Sans a third. 

 

“Her favorite songs and pastimes” Third sheet finished. “Her bad habits,” Sheets 4, 5, and 6. 

 

“Oh my god I don’t have that many bad habits!” You swiped for the sheets, but was blocked by Sams’ hip as they handed Sans a seventh sheet.

 

“Her favorite foods. Please make sure she eats other than just instant food. It’s really bad for her, i swear she’s gonna kill herself one of these days.” 

 

“You’re patellin me.” Sans took the last page, trying to organize them. Why was Sams handing him all these? Maybe this was the first day Sam was taking you to school for 8 hours? He waved it off, telling himself he’d talk to you about it later. 

 

“Oh my god,” You had your head in your hands, mumbling, face bright red. 

 

Sams rolled their eyes, continuing with Sans. “And for some reason she’s been talking to herself more lately. It’s weird, but it’s on the seizure list so just ignore it when it happens.” Sans looked up. What? You were talking with yourself? He glanced over at you, but you were already walking to your little couch, shaking your head all the while. 

 

“ If you need any help, don’t hesitate to call.” Sams finished up with one last pat of the desk, and a pointed look. “That woman over there,” Sams motioned their head in your direction. “They have half my heart. You hurt them, you hurt me. Capiche?” 

 

“Capiche.” Sans nodded, and Sams seemed content with that. They walked away from him, heading to your couch. The two of you were too far away for Sans to hear, but that didn’t stop him from watching. You had gotten yourself comfortable already, this time with just a book rather than your computer. Sam came to the side of the couch, and you spoke for a few short moments. You had giggled once or twice, and frowned a few times as well, like a true friends’ banter. 

 

Finally, Sam leaned forward and down, and you leaned up a bit. Sans looked away before he could see the kiss. Oh. 

 

That didn’t bother him. 

 

No, that didn’t bother him. 

 

Sans looked back to the two of you, and you had shared a hug with your friend before they shifted their backpack, and trekked out of the library. Sans glanced back at you, and felt his heart sink at the giant goofy smile on your face. He imagined you and Sam sharing a home now, eating breakfast together, going to school together, going to bed togeth-

 

Okay. It bothered him. 

 

______________

______________

Sams was a wonderful friend. The most wonderful friend. The butter to your bread, the peanuts to your jelly, the anger to your happiness. They were your rock, your hug, your fireplace on a snowy day. You had been together with them for, oh, about 14 years now. It was 5 years ago that you two had become zucchinis. It didn’t make much of a difference in either of your lives, but it felt nice to give a name to the relationship you already had with them. Plus, it made it easier to explain how the two of you were so close, so cuddly, without being  _ together _ . You didn’t feel attracted to Sams, romantically  _ or  _ physically; just emotionally. Sams understood you, and you understood them. 

 

So, naturally, when Sams left you for the day, they’d kissed you on the cheek. It was a simple action, a kiss, but it still made you happy. Yes, you were demisexual, but that did not remove the ear-tingling happiness received when someone you loved with nearly every fiber of your being expressed their love to you as well. 

 

With warmth in your heart and a smile on your lips, you pulled out your book, and began to read. It felt weird, holding your favorite book in your fingers and having it  _ not  _ nearly fall apart in your hand. A new copy to replace the old one that, sadly, rest in the ruins of your recently aflame apartment. (Ah, if only your favorite book was Fahrenheit 451. Wouldn’t that be ironic.) Sams had shown up to your hospital room on the first day that you had awoken with a new copy, and even after so long, you had yet to get to it with a highlighter and pen. How disappointing. 

 

You sighed. You enjoyed reading, but at the same time, you knew you were skirting on some responsibilities and homeworks you needed to get done. Ah. Well. That’s what you get, you guess, for not guarding your one remaining possession with more care. 

 

“People suck,” You let out a huff, turning the page of your book. 

 

“Yeah they do,” a voice next to you makes you jump, book almost slipping from your fingers. 

 

“Sans!” You breathe, turning to the skeleton lounging next to you. 

 

“People, I mean.” He turns to you, eye sockets empty. A chill runs down your spine, and your head buzzes a bit. “They nearly kill themselves, end up in the hospital, and then drop off the face of the earth without even one text, leaving their friends to just worry their skin off.” 

 

“Sans,” you repeat, remorseful now. His mouth just pulls into a tight line, and the lights in his sockets return again; he’s looking away from you. You reach out and lightly touch his hand, and feel a pang of guilt when he pulls it away. “I’m sorry,” You hesitate, frowning. “My phone is gone.” 

 

“Heh. I thought you still had it.”

 

“My...bag was stolen.” You looked away, chewing on your lip. 

 

“Oh.” He leans against the arm-rest, looking at you. “Where’d that happen?” 

 

“Uhh...” You glanced away, refusing to make eye-contact. It rang little bells in Sans’ head, but he tried to ignore it. “Sam... uhh... has a bad neighborhood...” You mumbled. 

 

Sans didn’t believe you. Something was off. Maybe if... “Was that why you didn’t want Sam to know where you were this morning?” He asked. You nodded, and he frowned, suspicion confirmed. If your bag was only stolen this morning, then you would have had your phone over the past week. So either you were lying about not having your phone, or lying about when your bag was stolen, or possibly... where you were? He could feel irritation budding in his mind, but he pushed it down. You had the right to your secrets... He dropped it. 

 

“I guess that explains it... Pap has been worried sick.” 

 

Ah. There’s that pang of guilt again. You shift, twiddling your thumbs a bit. “I’m sorry, I’ll find a way to contact him.” 

 

“You can use my phone, or we can go see him later today.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ceiling.

 

“That sounds good.” You nod a bit, and then fall into an awkward silence. Hell, this entire conversation was awkward... You still feel guilty. 

 

“Hey, I’m sorry,” you start, but stop when he waves a hand at you. You fall silent again, tension pulling taut between the two of you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you can feel yourself getting more and more anxious. Sure, you messed up, you should have contacted him earlier, but that didn’t mean he  _ hated  _ you, right? Oh god did he hate you? How much did he worry? You were fine when he-

 

“So whatcha reading?” He asked, motioning toward your book. Your trainwreck of a thought process halted, and you looked down at your book. “Shakespeare, right?” 

 

You paused. “Shakespeare?” Your eyes wandered from the book to him. “Shakespeare,” You rolled the word on your tongue, squinting your eyes at him. You could feel excitement bubbling in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giddily bouncing on the couch. “No no no no no no this isn’t Shakespeare!” 

 

“But Rosencranz and Guildenstern,” He said, confused. “They’re in..uhh.. Hamlet, right? They die.” 

 

“Well yes, but not really!” You were louder than you knew you should be, so you dropped your volume, but not your excitement. You practically shoved the book into his hands as you jumped from the couch, glancing around. a-c... d-f.... g-k.... l-p.... q-..S! You sped over to the S-aisle, Sans confusedly following behind, still holding your book, sending little questions as you rushed away. You searched for the book. Stoppard Stoppard Stoppard Stoppard..... “FUCK!” 

 

“Woah there.” 

 

“Sorry,” You whined, disappointed. The library didn’t have it. Guess you’d have to buy him a copy. You whipped around, poking the book in his hand. “Okay.” You started, “This is called Rosencranz and Guildenstern are dead.” 

 

“Yes I see that,” he smirked. 

 

“Shush.” You shushed him, “Just listen,” If you weren’t so excited, you probably would have stroked his face to get him to shut up. Instead, you jumped straight into talking his ear off. “So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz represent the left and right halves of the brain, and the impossibility of one existing without the other. That’s just a small point though. They’re so cute together though. ANYWAY they’re two relatively unimportant characters in Hamlet, but Stoppard uses them to reveal SO many different ideas!  The idea of suspended belief of unseen death creating plausible reason for a character's survival,  rebirth, and existence,  the immortality of fictional characters for as long as literature still exists with their character in it, and -oh this one’s my favorite- the space in which characters exist when they are not on-stage, because you can’t just stop-uhh... you can’t  _ fully  _ stop existing just because you’re not, you know,  _ there, _ ” You would have noticed Sans’ wide eyes if you would just shut up for a moment... but... “but because you have to be  _ there  _ when you need to be  _ there,  _ you end up... somewhere else while waiting for your curtain call. Not as the actor, but as the character itself! Oooohh my sweet Jesus, Sans, you HAVE to read it!!!!” You finally took a breath, and realized at that moment that Gaster would probably appreciate this book as well. And- AND! What if Rosencrantz and Guildenstern existed in the Void! 

 

HOLY SHIT! 

 

HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT! 

 

Okay, calm your tits. Calm them titties. You’d have to remember that for next time you visited Gaster. Just. Just. Table that thought. Yeah. You looked back at Sans, and he had a slightly frightened look on his face, like you had overwhelmed him with your rant. “Ah...” You deflated a bit, “sorry...” 

 

“No no no! I’ve just never seen you so  _ animated _ before.” You looked up, and he gave a half-smile, “Not saying you’re not animated already, but damn, girl, you got a smile that could knock a man’s socks off... Good thing I don’t wear socks.” He winked. You blinked. He stopped winking. “So, uhh. Good book?” 

 

“Great book!” You jittered, bouncing still. “You have to read it. I’ll buy you  a copy!” 

 

“Can I just borrow this one?” 

 

“No, Sams gave it to me.” 

 

“Oh...”

 

“But I’ll get you one of your own so you can mark it up and stuff,” You smiled at him, and then walked past him, returning to your couch. He followed close behind, and couldn’t stop his frown when he saw the back of your head. He hadn’t quite noticed your changes in appearance until now. Your hair was chopped short, an odd looking pixie cut, with some areas shorter than others. He wasn’t sure if it was just unfixable after the fire, or if you had done it yourself. The back of your neck was... well it looked horrible, to be blunt. He felt pity wash over him in waves; you wore long sleeves and pants to hide the scars, but he could still see them on your face and neck. He wondered if you had gotten shit for it yet. He hoped not. You reached the couch, and sat down leisurely. He wiped the pity off his face before you looked up at him with a smile. 

 

“Sounds like a plan,” He grinned at you. You shrugged, placing your book on the arm-rest. 

 

“Yeah, but the book can wait,” you said, patting the space next to you on the couch. “C’mere. I haven’t spoken to you in a while. Wanna be caught up with your SHINaningans.” You looked proud of yourself. Very proud of yourself. It was cute. 

 

Sans flopped onto the couch next to you, maybe sitting a bit closer than he would with a friend. He found himself slightly upset when you didn’t react at all. This was how you flirted, right? Before you got too close as friends, you made your intentions known with minor flirtatious things, right? Sitting closer, little pick up lines, snarky sayings. Winks. You reacted to none of them. He couldn’t say it didn’t frustrate him to no end. Cuz it did. It frustrated him. To no end. It wasn't that you were turning him down; no, he could handle that. Easily. He was more than willing to just have you as a friend. He kinda  _ had  _ to if he wanted to find out how you were connected with Gaster.  It was the fact that you weren’t even  _ acknowledging _ his attempts at flirting that frustrated him. How was he supposed to know if he should continue with his attempts if you didn’t even realize what he was doing? He didn’t want to take it further than his actions now; that would  _ flirt  _ with the fence between acceptable and rude. He sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s been pretty bonely without you here. Just organizing books, placating a very worried Paps, doing nothing, helping Paps to stop worrying...” 

 

“I’m sorry,” you grimaced, “I should probably visit him...” 

 

“You really should.” 

 

“I will...” 

 

“Soon.” 

 

“Yeah....” you looked down at your lap, frowning. 

 

“As in now.” 

 

“What?” you looked up, and jumped; you were sitting on a chair in... the fire department. Of course. You looked around for a moment, expecting it any second... 

 

“HUMAN!!!” Ah. there it is. You whipped around to see Papyrus bounding toward you, and you only had a second to stand up before he snagged you from the air, whirling you around in circles and belting boisterous “NYEHEHEHE’s.” You matched his laughter, wrapping your arms around him as your legs dangled like ragdolls. “I HAVE MISSED YOU VERY MUCH!” He yelled, finally setting you down. You reached right below where his ribs began. He plopped his hands on either of your shoulders, looking fully satisfied in your presence. “YOU HAVE WORRIED SANS VERY MUCH!” he sounded almost paternal in his chastisement, and you couldn’t help but look over at Sans. Was it  _ really  _ Papyrus who missed you, or... Sans gave you a shrug that did not answer your questioning glance. “EITHER WAY!” Papyrus commanded your attention again. “I HAVE A GIFT FOR YOU!” 

 

You raised both eyebrows. “Oh really?” 

 

“YES!” Papyrus bounced in excitement, bending down and swooping you into his arms; you found yourself sitting on his ulna, clutching his ribs for support as he paraded through the department, bringing you upstairs. Sans was quick to follow behind, laughing as you looked at him in something between panic and excitement. He was carrying you like you would a  _ toddler _ ! “I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE MOST LACKING IN ATTIRE AS OF NOW, SO!” He waltzed to what was obviously the break room, and pushed the door open with his free hand. “I HAVE USED SOME OF MY SAVINGS TO ALLEVIATE YOUR NEED FOR CLOTHING!” He walked through the break room until the three of you reached a wall of lockers. He set you down, and then proudly opened one of the lockers. It was filled to the  _ brim _ with clothing! Not just clothing like jeans and tees, but  _ everything!  _ Just from a quick glance at the perfectly folded attire, you could see at  _ least  _ 5 different items made of very expensive material, three pairs of jeans, some skirts, enough shirts to last you a week... “I HAVE TAKEN IT UPON MYSELF TO RE-FILL YOUR WARDROBE!” He declared, opening the lockers on either side of the first opened one, revealing just as much clothing, ranging from skirts to pants to shirts, casual to fancy. Shit was that a  _ onesy!?  _

 

“Papyrus,” You swallowed, looking at all the clothing. You felt tears prickle at your eyes. How could someone you’ve only just met be so kind? And how could you break it to him that... “I can’t accept all this.” 

 

“BUT OF COURSE YOU CAN!” He smiled at you, pulling a pair of suitcases from nowhere. “I INSIST! I WILL BEGIN PACKING THEM IMMEDIATELY! I’M SURE TEMMIE, TEMMIE, AND TEMMIE WILL BE VERY HAPPY TO HAVE THEIR LOCKERS BACK! IT HAS BEEN ABOUT A WEEK!” Ohh... He bought this stuff a week ago... You felt even more guilty. He nearly instantly packed both suitcases and shoved them toward you. You couldn’t take all this! You didn’t have anywhere to put it, and it would probably be stolen anyway. 

 

“No seriously, Papyrus, I can’t take this!” You sounded serious, and it made Papyrus pause in his packing. He looked down at you.

 

“WHY NOT?” He asked, confusion and hurt painted on his face. Ow. 

 

“I..I don’t have anywhere to put it,” you admitted, hoping they’d just drop it at that. 

 

“Why not?” Sans cut in, looking at you suspiciously, a darkness lingering behind his eyes. He remembered the morning again, your dodging of questions and lies. An idea was forming in his head, and he didn’t like it. It explained why Sam had given him all those papers this morning, though. 

 

“Uhh... S-sam doesn’t have a big apartment...” you stuttered, refusing to look at Papyrus. 

 

“Yeah. It’s in a bad part of the neighborhood too, right?” Sans cut in, clenching his teeth. Papyrus’ eyes grew wide, and he fell silent, knowing Sans’ different tones of voice. You turned around to face Sans, and flinched at his expression. 

 

“Uhh,” you couldn’t think of something to say. 

 

“But Sam loves you with all their heart,” Sans continued, taking a step closer, eyes tightening on you. “So they would make space for clothing for you, right? I mean, clothing is a necessity, and it’s only 2 suitcases, right?” You stayed silent, looking down. “They seem pretty nice, if you ask me.” He takes another step forward, and you retreat a step. “So tell me, friend,” He says the word friend like it’s acid, and you can’t help but look at him. His eye sockets are empty. He closes the distance between you and him, getting only an inch from your face. “w h y  a r e y o u l y i n g?” 

 

“OH ON SECOND THOUGHT PAPYRUS I’LL TAKE YOUR CLOTHING THANK YOU SO MUCH I’M SURE SAM WILL FIND A PLACE FOR IT!” You slipped away from Sans, under Papyrus’s legs and grabbed the suitcases. You ducked your head. “Thanks so much Papyrus I’ll be sure to wear every one but I really gotta go now I think Sam gets off class soon!” You began hurrying off, mind practically blank as you scurried across and out of the break room, ignoring Papyrus’s yells of confusion. 

 

Sans stayed still, watching you leave, anger boiling. After you disappeared around the corner, Papyrus scratched the back of his head. “WELL! I THINK THAT WENT KINDA WELL! BUT HOW IS SHE GOING TO GET BACK TO THE COLLEGE? IT’S QUITE A WAYS AWAY FROM HERE!” 

 

“Don’t worry, Paps,” Sans said, low and slow and dangerous. “I’ll get her there.” 

 

“OH GOOD! I’M GLAD SHE HAS A FRIEND LIKE YO- SANS? WOWIE! YOU SURE DO MOVE FAST WHEN YOU WANT TO!” 

 

_______________

_______________

 

So maybe running out of a fire department miles away from the college wasn’t a good idea. Maybe running out of a fire department right in front of a busy street while anxious was an even worse idea. It was not really a surprise to you when your head began to buzz, and you found yourself setting the suitcases down and sitting on them before you faded out completely. 

 

_ Why didn’t you just tell him?  _

_ He would understand, you know.  _

_ He would probably even be willing to help you.  _

_ You are so  _ **_stubborn!_ **

 

You came back, shaking your head a bit. “I don’t need help. I can handle this,” you responded to Gaster, frowning. “I don’t need help. I’m already a burden, I won’t be even more.” You stood, shaking off your numbness, and heaving a large sigh. “I can handle this,” You wondered for a moment if you were telling Gaster or yourself that time. You grabbed the handles of both your suitcases, and searched for street names. 

 

.... Melrose.... and... Date. Oh! you knew where you were! That means that your destination was just a mile or two down Date! With a skip in your step, you began your trek down the street, humming lightly. As you walked, you thought it would probably be a good idea to find a way to contact Sam and tell them you weren’t at the library, but with Sam believing that you were living with Sans, you figured you wouldn’t have to worry about that. They’d just assume you went “home.” You let out a rather large yawn, dragging the suitcases behind you. Geesh, these were heavy. And you were tired... 

 

But! There was nothing you couldn’t do! 

 

You trekked on, passing each street with resolve. From date to Nut. Nut to Apricot. Apricot to Peach. Damn this area of the city was fruity. You laughed at your joke as you turned from Peach to Cherry, and then crossed to the left side. The sun had just begun to set when you reached your destination. You passed through the gates, giving a kind nod to the cop you had seen yesterday. He seemed to patrol the area right outside here for the publiclyindecent. Eh. Figures. This  _ was  _ the bad part of town... You yawned again, eyes droopy as you walked from the front yard to the large building. You stepped through the double-doors, and scrunched your nose. 

 

God, this place smelled. Well, at least you were here early enough to claim your own little corner. You walked into the nearly-empty room, and picked your way past some already sleeping bodies, toward the corner. After losing your bag a little over a week ago, you thought it safer to sleep in the corner, where there were less people surrounding you. Eh. It wasn’t like people had much to steal, anyway. All you had before these gosh-darn suitcases was your pills, and those did  _ nothing  _ that would be worth stealing. Speaking of that, you pulled out your little pill case: the only thing in your pocket rather than your bag when it was stolen. You only had a handful of pills left, and wondered if, since Gaster knew you now, you could just stop taking them. 

 

You didn’t want to risk it, and popped a pill. You set the suitcases behind you, and sat in front of them, reaching for your book.... fuck you left it on the arm-rest in the library. You sighed, leaning your head against the back of the suitcases. 

 

You could do this. You could do this. There was no reason why you couldn’t. It was just tiring. That’s it. You closed your eyes, taking a few steadying breaths in, feeling sleepiness take you over. Sure, it was early, but with how poorly you slept during the night, it was a good idea to get to sleep early. 

 

“So,” You jumped, eyes shooting open. You looked to your left, and blanched at the seething face next to you. Sans looked infuriated, at a loss, and hurt at the same time as the little white dots of his eyes looked straight into your soul. “Wanna tell me why you’re sleeping at a homeless shelter?” He sounded angry. Patient, but angry. Hurt? 

 

Betrayed. He sounded betrayed. Your shoulders slumped at the realization, and you looked away, still silent. In your peripherals, you could see him clench and unclench his fists, pausing before they reached out to you, and then clenching again. “Please,” He said softly, hurt lacing his voice. 

 

You swallowed. “Sam lives with their parents... I can’t burden them with that...” You whimpered, looking at your shoes. 

 

“Max?” Sans said quietly, and you closed your eyes. 

 

“I have seizures more often at night... I don’t want to make him combust in worry...” 

 

“So instead you’ll have seizures in a homeless shelter, and have all your stuff stolen.” He said flatly, and you winced. 

 

“Well, when you put it like that,” You mumbled, picking at your pants. You were surprised these pants had lasted so long, what with how much you were walking and falling lately. Sam dropped you off outside the house you said was Sans’s and then you would walk to the shelter from there. You took a shower in the morning at the school, and then met with other students in need of tutoring services. By the end of the day, you found your way back to the shelter, and repeated the process. By the third day, you had gotten stressed enough that seizures were more common, and you found yourself on your knees, arguing with Gaster more than you’d like. Gaster was mad at you for your actions, and never wasted an opportunity to tell you how stupid you were being. You did not appreciate it very much. You knew he was worried, but you could handle this. 

 

Sans let out a heavy sigh, and stood up, reaching for your suitcases. You almost protested, but found yourself in his living room before you could even say a word. You looked at him, and he gave you a tired glare. “You’re stubborn.” He said simply, bringing the suit-cases to the couch, and setting them next to it, pulling out his phone. 

 

“Sans.” You stood, walking over to him, “Don’t worry, I can handle thi-” 

 

“Sit down.” he says curtly, unlocking his phone and punching in a phone number. 

 

“Sans seriously I can handle this!” You interjected, getting closer again, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got this! I just need to wait a few weeks for enough money for a deposit, then I can-” 

 

“S i t. D o w n.”  He turned to you, eye sockets empty, and points to the couch. A chill runs from your throat to your toes, and you oblige, finding your way to the couch and sitting down like a chastised child. Placated, Sans lifts his phone to his ear, and waits. Silence passes for a while before, “Papyrus it’s me..... Yeah, I found her.... No she’s fine, just a little,” His eyes trail to you, and you feel both apprehension at his glare, and relief when you see the whites in his eyes again. “A little dumb....” You would have spoken up, but the way his teeth ground together and his eyes shot daggers in your direction stilled your lips. “She’s staying with us for a while, kay Paps?.... Yeah.... Yeah... She’d like that....Okay... See you soon.” He moved the phone from his skull, and dropped it next to the TV before walking over to the couch and sitting on the other side of it. Finally, you got your tongue again. 

 

“Sans really, I don’t need your hel-” 

 

“Stop.” He interrupted you, looking at you now, and your tongue stilled again. His eyes were overflowing with hurt. “You’re not alone, you know.” He started, scrunching his eyebrows together. 

 

“I know.” You said, tightening your lips. 

 

“You can ask for help.” his voice is low. His gaze drops to his lap. 

 

“I don’t need help,” You spoke, licking your lips. Sans let out one laugh, more of a forced exhale of breath. 

 

“Obviously you do.” He rolled his eyes, and you frowned. “You have friends. Friends are meant to help you when you’re in a rough patch.” 

 

“They’ve got their own life. I can’t burden them. Besides, I can handle this-” 

 

“I’m your friend!” He cuts in, looking up at you now. His voice raises a bit. “Both Pap and I are!” 

 

“I barely know you!” Your voice matches his, “I can’t just waltz into your life, and ask you to let me live with you! That’s ridiculous!” 

 

“No less ridiculous than living in a homeless shelter and getting your shit stolen because you’re too DAMN STUBBORN to ask for help!” He is almost shouting now, teeth clenched. 

 

“Why the FUCK do you even CARE? I can make my own GODDAMN decisions!” You lean forward a bit, butt slightly off the couch, voice just as loud as his. 

 

“OBVIOUSLY NOT!” He’s yelling now. 

 

“YOU DON’T KNOW ME!” You retaliate, louder. 

 

“Well I’m not going to get the CHANCE to if you get OFFED in some RATTY ASS SHELTER in FRUITVILLE!” He responded to your aggression, leaning forward as well. His eye bursts into a blue and yellow flame. He stands, and suddenly he’s towering over you. You back down. “I WANT to get to know you.” He says, voice a regular volume now. “I WANT to...” He peters off, and seems to relax a bit. He leans out of your personal space, but doesn’t sit.His shoulders practically raise to his skull before he lets out a heavy breath, and drops them. He forces himself to sit on the couch again. “Look,” He says curtly, flopping his hands into his lap. You stare at them. “I just- You...” He lets out another sigh. 

 

“Sans...” you trail off, and he looks up at you. “I’m- I’m sorry,” you mumble, twiddling your own fingers together, anger dissipating just as fast as it appeared. He hadn’t said much, but it was endearing either way. He showed that he cared about you. Your heart tugged a bit, and you couldn’t stop the small smile. “Thank you.” 

 

“Heh.” Sans responded, looking away for a moment. “Yeah, whatever.” He looked up then, eyes determined, voice demanding. “You’re staying here, got it?” 

 

“Yeah, I got it,” You seceeded. 

 

“And no fucking lying.” 

 

You winced. “Okay... sorry...” 

 

“And shit, eat something other than that microwavable crap!” 

 

“Now you’re just listing off what Sams told you!” 

 

“Well I might as well since you’re in a listenin’ mood!” 

 

“Maybe I’m not in a listenin’ mood anymore!” you couldn’t stop the smirk, and neither could he. 

 

“Do I have to yell again then?” 

 

“No, no...” You trailed off, looking at his hands again. “You’re good... I’m sorry.” 

 

“What are you apologizing for?” 

 

“I dunno...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/youlearntolivewithit
> 
> need i remind you guys. Firefigher. Papyrus. On the tumblr. By PuddingBrezel. Look at it. Admire it. Love it. 
> 
> I'm gonna go die.


	11. Let's Metaphorically shatter that Wall!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is just... things that need to be said. For plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I"m having some real trouble with this guy right now. Kinda. At a loss on how to get the plot rolling the way I want. 
> 
> So sorry if the updates are kinda slow. 
> 
> I"m still trying for the once-a-week deal.

After your argument with Sans, the two of you decided to relax for a while. He pulled out his phone, and the two of you huddled over it, watching various comedians. 

 

It wasn’t long before you fell asleep, head drooping more and more until it finally fell to his shoulder. He froze up a bit, but quickly relaxed, lifting a hand and lightly running his phalanges through your hair. He frowned at the way your hair slid between his fingers; there were so many different parts of it that were shorter, it felt like he was petting a burnt rug. It wasn’t gross, just a reminder of your previous escapades. Your hair was still soft, though. He wondered for a moment about how mad you would be if he just... stayed here all night. Maybe fell asleep, and unconsciously moved around until he “cuddled” with you. 

 

That would be rude. And kinda sketch. 

 

He sighed, shifting around until he could cradle your side, and slowly bringing you down till you were lying on the couch. Free now, he walked to the closet, and grabbed a few blankets, returning to you and tossing them over your body. You shifted, grasping at the blanket, and curling up a bit. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning over you, and running a finger across the scar below your ear. 

 

“Still beautiful,” he breathed, eyes sweeping over your face and neck. He wondered what your soul looked like. With how kind you were, how happy, it must be pristine. 

 

He hoped to see it one day.

______________________

______________________

_ I told you.  _

 

“Shush.” 

 

_...... But I told you. _

 

“Shush!”

 

_ You know, just because you shush me with more gusto doesn’t mean i’ll shush. _

 

“Shut up then?”

 

_ A valiant attempt, but no cigar.  _

 

You let out a sigh, folding your arms behind your head and letting yourself float through the nothingness. A hand catches you; you settle yourself in the hole in the palm like you would an inner tube. It was a bit less comfortable than an inner tube, but you didn’t mind much. You spread your arms along the rim of the boney circle, and look up at the enormous Gaster in front of you. 

 

“Tell me.” You start, sliding your fingers along the side of the bone. It was exactly how you expected it to feel, -smooth as marble- which made you wonder if it was your mind making it like that, or if his bones really  _ were  _ marble smooth. “Why is it that I can talk with you every time I sleep now? Am I having an all-night seizure?” Gaster looked down at you with a small (but VERY large) smile, and shrugged. You were sure if this weren’t nothingness, and he  _ were  _ 10 stories tall, his shrug would have sent wind flying around your face. 

 

_ Honestly, I haven’t a clue.  _

 

“Ah.” You nodded, shifting a bit in the circle of his hand. It still reminded you of an inner tube. You blinked. His hand was a soft, see through rubber now, fingers gone. Ah. An inner tube. But what was an inner tube without a pool? 

 

_ You really must warn me before you change the scenery _ . Gaster complained. You looked toward him, holding back a small chuckle when you saw him standing 4 feet in the pool you now floated in. He looked inconvenienced. 

 

“Sorry.” 

 

_ Fine. How is the couch treating you?  _

 

“It’s still soft as heaven’s feathers,” You said dreamily, leaning back enough for your hair to touch the water. It was cool, but not too cold; just how you liked it. 

 

_ So why was it so bad to ask for help? _

 

“I can handle myself, Gaster.” 

 

_ Does sleeping in the corner of a homeless shelter and getting all of your remaining personal belongings stolen qualify for “handling yourself?” _

 

“Gaster.” 

 

_ I’m just saying. You’re being ridiculous.  _

 

“Well it’s not  _ my  _ fault I can’t get a job good enough to get into a better apartment.” You accused him. In your distress, the pool and inner tube disappeared, leaving the two of you floating in nothingness again. 

 

_ Exactly! Why should you punish yourself for something you didn’t even do?  _ Gaster flailed his arms in agitation, growing in size with the volume of his voice. You met his size, not backing down. 

 

“It’s not punishing myself! I  _ know  _ I don’t deserve this!” You jabbed at Gaster, and flinched at the pang in the back of your mind, knowing Gaster could feel it too. You fell silent, looking away from Gaster. 

 

_ I believe it says a lot about your honesty level if you can’t even lie to yourself.  _

 

“Shut up.” 

 

_ Resilient one... _

 

“I couldn’t save them, Gaster...” you trailed off. Little white hearts, tinged with yellow, flitted around, bumping into your legs and shoulders. They were broken, cracks littering the surface, threatening to shatter any moment. 

 

_ There was nothing else you could do.  _ His arm was on your shoulder now, and you smacked it away, angry. 

 

“I could have ran faster! I could have listened to your warnings! I could have tried to move that wall differently, I could have covered their body with mine, I could have poured all the medicine on them to give them enough magic to-” 

 

_ That would not have worked.  _

 

“How am I supposed to know that!?!?” You screeched. Gaster shrunk back, and you stopped, realizing you were yelling. You floated away from him. “Sorry...” 

 

_ It’s fine. Understandable, really.  _ Gaster spoke, voice quiet.  _ But,  _ he continued,  _ you have a solid reason why you shouldn’t blame yourself for their death.  _

 

You looked up, frowning. He gave you a kind smile, and you felt a warm heat on your back, a solid, methodical pulse.

 

The heart. 

 

_ When a monster dies, the first thing their dust touches gains their essence.  _

 

“I knew that.” 

 

_ Normally, it’s an object.  _

 

“Yeah....” 

 

_ But sometimes, it’s a living being.  _

 

You were silent, listening.

 

_ Did you know,  _ He continued, _ that the essence does not normally leave a mark?  _

 

You paused, blinking. The little hearts still bumped against your shoulders, pressed against your back. You stared at Gaster, eyebrows scrunched together. 

 

_ The only time that it does, Resilient One, is if the monster wishes it with their last thought.  _

 

“But...why?” You spoke slowly, confused. 

 

_ My hypothesis? Tooth wanted you to know they didn’t blame you.  _ Gaster was smiling at you now.  _ Tooth saw this coming, saw you blaming yourself, and wanted to give you a way to get over it.  _

 

You were silent, thinking. One of the hearts bumped against your hand, and you looked at it. You turned your hand outward, and it entered your palm. You lifted it, cradled it in your hands. As you held it, the cracks on its surface began to fade, and it pulsed with rejuvenated vigor. “Tooth forgives me?” 

 

_ Tooth never blamed you in the first place.  _

 

“Ah.” you watched as your tear  dropped onto the the heart, and trailed down its side. 

 

_ You’re still the most stubborn sentient being I have ever met.  _

 

“Well thanks.” 

 

_ That wasn’t a compliment.  _

 

“I’m taking it as one, though.” 

 

Gaster sighed, but still looked happy that he could cheer you up. 

 

“Anyway, Subject change.”You continued, catching Gasters attention. “I was thinking.” 

 

_ That’s rare.  _

 

“Rude. Anyway. What if there was a different way for you to escape here?” 

 

_ I highly doubt that. Your mind was the only promising outlook i’ve found in my entire time here, and that was a dud.  _

 

“Well now it’s different!” You nodded to yourself, caressing your chin. “You’ve got me now!” Gaster just looked at you in confusion. You continued. “You’ve got someone whose... uhh...  _ real _ .. on your side now!” You smiled wide at him. “What if there are things I can do that you couldn’t do alone?” 

 

_ Impossible.  _ Gaster frowned. 

 

“What?” you mimicked his face, pouting. “Why is it impossible? Isn’t this the space of impossible? It can’t be  _ impossible _ .” 

 

_ But it is. This place. This nothingness. It’s disconnected from the real world. There are things that can see and interact with each other, but there is no bridge.”  _

 

“I was a bridge.” 

 

_ No, I thought you were a bridge. You’re just a... a window, persay.  _

 

“You can open a window,” You waggled your eyebrow. Gaster just frowned.

 

_ It doesn’t work that way. Picture a wall. _ A wall appeared between you and Gaster. You could see him through a small window.  _ You can see me through the window, correct?  _

 

“Yeah.” You touched the window. 

 

_ But you cannot get to my side. I can see you through the window, and you can see me. But it’s still a wall.  _ He touched the window as well; your hands were separated by the thin glass.  _ You can travel up or down or left or right along the wall for as long as you want... but it’s still just a wall.  _

 

“There is no door,” You finished for him in a whisper, and he nodded. 

 

_ The impossible may be possible here, but here is not there. And if i’m trying to get to your realm, i have to follow your realm’s rules.  _

 

“What if we  _ make  _ a door?” You asked, curling your hand into a fist, “Or maybe not a door, but at least... a hole?” 

 

_ What?  _

 

You pulled your fist away from the glass, and then swung at the window. As the glass shattered, so did the wall, leaving you alone with Gaster in Nothing once again. “A hole!” You beamed at him. “What if we made a hole in the wall?” 

 

Gaster just sighed.  _ That’s impossible.  _

 

“I did it just now,” You waggled your eyebrows again, and Gaster looked completely done with your shit. 

 

_ That was a metaphor.  _ He said with a frown. 

 

“True,” You pondered, placing a hand on your chin, smile never leaving your face. “Gaster,” Gaster looked at you, and your smile widened. “I just decided on my new philosophy in life.” 

 

_ Oh?  _ He didn’t look entertained, but he did look slightly curious. 

 

“Yeah.” Your smile twisted smug. 

 

_ And that is?  _

 

“If it’s do-able in a metaphor, it’s do-able in practice!” 

 

_____________________

_____________________

 

You woke up vigorously, if that was possible. Your eyes shot open, your face twisted into a smile, and you sat up. Blankets fell to your waist.

 

Sans, sipping some coffee at the table, turned his head at the sudden ruffling of blankets. Huh. You must be awake.

 

Your mind was spinning a million miles a minute. You could do this. You could do this! You could TOTALLY do this! It was just.. thinking, right? There was magic, and Gaster, and a realm of impossibility, and your seizures, and Sans and Papyrus. All you needed to do was find a way to connect it all. It was just a puzzle. A confusing, riddled puzzle! 

 

You rolled off the couch, and turned, beginning to fold the blankets. You just needed a good place to start. 

 

“I made coffee,” You heard Sans call from the table. 

 

...

 

Coffee was a good place to start. 

 

“You’re a doll, Sans.” 

 

“Actually i’m a skeleton,” He deadpanned. You rolled your eyes, and finished folding. You plopped them on the arm of the couch, and double checked to see if your pills were still in your pocket before you joined Sans at the table. He handed you a pre-made cup. Pre-made meaning black. You grimaced, and looked over at the fridge. Eh. Too far away. Guess you’re drinking it black. 

 

You drank it black. 

 

“So,” You mused over the ridge of the cup, wondering... should you tell him about Gaster? Would it make this whole thing easier? Faster? You dipped into your pocket, pulling out your little bottle of pills, and placing them on the table. Didn’t Gaster say that no one remembered him? Would you be messing with the rules if you talked about him? Shit! Gaster said he had to play by this world's rules to get to this side of the world... If you broke rules, did that mean--

 

You paused. Remembered the metaphor... Punching a hole through the wall.

 

Fuck the rules. 

 

“So,” Sans began, taking a sip of coffee. 

 

“Does the name Gaster mean anything to you?” You asked quickly, taking another sip. Sans sputtered, coughing and sending coffee across the table (and on your shirt. Aww). You had to sit there for quite a while as Sans coughed (Why does he even cough? There’s no lungs to get coffee in??), until he finally stopped, both hands on the table as he leaned over a bit. 

 

He looked at you. “What?” 

 

“Gaster.” You said simply. The little white dots in his eyes dilated. Then undilated. Like a camera trying to focus, his eyes told how he was trying to wrap his mind around your words. Based on that expression alone, “it does, doesn’t it?” 

 

Sans didn’t respond. His eyes stopped dilating after a while, and he blinked a few times. Finally, he looked away from you and breathed, “I knew you were connected to him somehow...” he chuckled, “Didn’t expect it to be this easy...” 

 

You gave him a confused mumble, and he looked at you. “Sorry. Yeah. Gaster means something to me. He’s-” 

 

“Your dad.” You provided. His sockets narrowed. 

 

“Okay,” Sans sat up, giving you a peculiar, skeptical expression. “I expected that you were connected to him somehow, but not this” He gave a generic wave at you as a whole, “evidently. This... consciously...” He frowned now, leaning forward.

 

You took a quick breath. “He causes my seizures.” 

 

“Duh.” 

 

“Rude! You know Epilepsy is a real thing, right?” You half-smiled, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“Well, yeah, but I had a hunch-” 

 

“From where?” You pushed, watching him begin to sweat. 

 

“Well there was... You were having seizures!” You were sure that if he weren’t “cool,” He’d be flailing about, waving his arms this way and that. 

 

“But you have no proof that they were connected to Gaster.” You pressed on. He looked away. 

 

“Shutup I was right.” 

 

“But did you actually  _ know _ , or did you approach me just on a hun-” you paused. Oh. Did he... only approach you because he thought you were connected to Gaster? Your heart dropped, and you swallowed. He... 

 

“Kid?” Sans asked, leaning forward a bit. You blinked, and shook yourself out of your thoughts. 

 

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t... You smiled at him, “Sorry, got caught in a passing thought for a moment.” You shrugged. Sans just wants to see his dad. Of course he’d approach you. This wasn’t  _ about  _ you. It was about Gaster. Your passing friendship or whether Sans actually saw you as a friend doesn’t matter. What mattered was re-uniting Sans with Gaster, fixing your seizure thing, and moving on. 

 

“It’s cool. You alright though? Looked like you were skullking for a moment.” 

 

“M’fine!” Your smile widened, and you dispelled the hurt from your eyes. Shoved it away to join the other things you were... ignoring... “Let’s talk about Gaster!” 

 

“....alright...” Sans didn’t look fully convinced, but shook it off either way. “Can ya’ start from the beginning?” 

 

“Yeah... okay. A year and a half ago...” 


	12. The Research Begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Youlearntolivewithit.tumblr.com
> 
> Not much to say. Just truckin' along! 
> 
> Tryin'a get some plot and some romantic plot down so we can get to BUSINESS!

“No no no, he doesn’t exist!” 

 

“But you just said-”

 

“Yes i know what I said, but listen. He exists in  _ nothing. _ Meaning. He doesn’t exist, but he does!” 

 

“...” 

 

“Like, look at my hand, okay?” 

 

“Yeah.”   
  


“Nothing is in my hand.”

“I can see that.” 

 

“Exactly!! Nothing! That’s it!” 

 

“So Gaster’s not here.” 

 

“No he is!” 

 

“...kid.” 

 

“Gerr Aaahh! Okay! Look at my hands!” 

 

“Kinda sad you gotta hold your own hand. You can always hold mine.” 

 

“Sans!” 

 

“Sorry, i’m lookin, i’m lookin.” 

 

“Okay. See how there’s no space between my fingers?” 

 

“How can I see something that isn’t there?” 

 

“Sans.” 

 

“Yes I see it.” 

 

“Okay. But. Scientifically speaking, there HAS to be space between my fingers, because if there weren’t, then my fingers would be melded together.” 

 

“Good  _ point.”  _

 

“Sans.” 

 

“Sorry.” 

 

“Okay. So there’s the smallest little space between my fingers. But it’s not really there. THe space, I mean. That’s where Gaster is.” 

 

“So he’s..really really small?” 

 

“AAUGHH!!!!” 

 

“Sorry, kid, I just don’t get it.” Sans sighed, sipping at a little pack of apple juice. THe two of you were at the cafeteria at school, commandeering a table in the corner as you attempted to explain what felt like the impossible to him. You thunked your head against the table, groaning. “Can we just skip the part where I understand where Gas is, and just get straight to the how to save him?” 

 

“Nooooo,” You whined, lifting and thunking your head against the table. “It’s  _ where  _ he is that makes it a  _ problem!”  _

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because he doesn’t  _ exist!”  _ You tossed your hands into the air for a moment, letting them flop on either side of your head. 

 

“Can we just go there?” 

 

“Sans!” 

 

“Sorry. Stupid question. I work with Time and Space shenanigans. Not...  _ not  _ space shenanigans.” He shrugged, finishing the applejuice box, and pushing it to the side. He leaned on his elbows, looking down at you as you turned your head to look at him.    
  


“Well,” You sighed, “I guess if this was going to be easy, it would have happened already...” You turned your head back to the table. Little phalanges wove themselves into your hair, scratching the back of your head.  _ Jesus  _ that felt good. 

 

“Uhh, is this ok?” He asked, his fingers stilling for a moment. You hummed, giving a quick nod, and the fingers continued. “Can we try again? The explanation thing?” 

 

“Yeah,” You hummed, anger placated by the soft circles of his undulating digits. Something tickled in the back of your mind, reminding you that he was just being kind to get his father back, but you chose to ignore it. “It’s like.... gimme a moment to think.” 

 

“take all the time you need. S’not like my break’s got a time limit.” He joked. You would have taken it as sarcasm if you didn’t know him better; his breaks were as long as he wanted them to be. Period. You took a breath in, feeling your chest rise off the table before releasing it, letting all the tension in your shoulders out with the air. 

 

“Do you think...” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Sans-oh.” Your eyes flicked open. He  _ does  _ think... which means, “Okay let's roll with that. When you think of something, does that  _ make  _ it exist?” 

 

“Uhh...” Sans’s fingers paused in your hair, “..nno?” 

 

“Yes. You’re right, I mean. So... are thoughts tangible?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Right! But thoughts are still a thing that happens. Just because we can’t see or feel or hear them doesn’t make them not exist, right?” 

 

“So Gaster is a thought?” 

 

“Wait wait lemme keep going.” 

 

“Ok.” 

 

You took another breath, trying to collect your thoughts. “But imagine if, in some dimension, your thoughts  _ did  _ exist corporeally, and so did everyone else’s.” 

 

“Ok.” 

 

“And on top of that,” You started talking a bit faster, pretty sure you were about to break through, “everything that  _ doesn’t  _ exist in this world, exists there. So stuff that will never exist here, stuff that may exist here in the future, stuff that shouldn’t even exist. It’s all  _ there. _ ”

 

“So it’s like... the negative image of our universe?” 

 

“Well. Kinda?” You shrugged, letting your arms slide against the table you still leaned against. “But not at all at the same time.” 

 

“Why not at all?” 

 

“Well, Gaster explained that the amount of things that ‘don’t exist’ are potentially infinite.” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“So that dimension is  _ also  _ potentially infinite, cuz it has to house all that stuff.” 

 

“So it can’t be a negative image because it’s infinitely larger than our universe.” 

 

“Exactly.” 

 

“So with that dimension in mind, we can derive a rule.” 

 

“And Gaster, because he doesn-” You paused, listening to Sans now. You turned your head to look at him. He was contemplative, pondering. Excited. “...continue.” 

 

His bright little pupils flicked down to you, and he smiled, “Anything that has the potential to exist  _ must  _ exist, whether it’s here, or there.” 

 

“Well... yes, I guess?” You blinked, “That actually explains it almost perfectly.” 

 

“So since Gaster doesn’t exist here... by default he  _ has  _ to exist there!” 

 

“YES!” You practically shouted, bolting to a sitting position. His fingers, still knuckles deep in your hair, slid out rather easily; you had very little hair for his digits to get stuck in. “That’s exactly it!” 

 

“So we just have to find a way to get him from there to here.” His pupils expanded, and you could see hope in his eyes already. 

 

“Yes! Yes!” You were bouncing, “Thank you! God, I didn’t want to explain that anymore!” You whooped, grabbing his shoulders and holding him strong in front of you. “I could  _ kiss  _ you right now!” You laughed, shaking him lightly as his entire face burst into blue. 

 

“Well that’s-” 

 

“So I was thinking that you could start checking the library databases and see if anyone else knows about the other dimension, and I’d try and get as much information from Gaster as possible,” you continued, reaching down and grabbing your backpack. You stood, ushering Sans to follow you to the library. “I can’t talk to him on demand, so I can help you with the library thing.... Sans?” Sans hadn’t moved, still pretty blue in the face. You tapped his shoulder. He jumped, and looked up. “You ready to go?” 

 

“O-oh. Yeah.” He stood as well, following you out the cafeteria. He half-listened to you as the two of you trekked back to the library, reminding himself that you were a taken woman. He’s seen you with Sams; he’s seen your smile with them. His heart ached a bit, but he pushed it away; Gaster was more important than his chances with you. Besides, you showed no interest... Maybe he should just give up, and concentrate on Gaster? 

 

“-my medication, so I can talk with him more often,” you continued, opening the door to the library for Sans. He blinked, walking in. 

 

“Wait, what about your medication?” He asked, “Sorry, I zoned out for a bit. Bit o’ a numbskull.” He winked at you. You pinched your eyebrows together. 

 

“How much of what I said did you hear?” 

 

“...none?” 

 

“Damnit Sans!” 

 

“Sorry,” Sans shrugged, and couldn’t stop the smile when you huffed in annoyance. 

 

“I was just saying,” You repeated, “That I’m thinking of stopping my medication so I can talk with Gaster more often.” 

 

Sans frowned. “Kid. That’s not a good idea.” 

 

“Why not, though?” You questioned, heading toward your couch. “If my seizures aren’t caused by Epilepsy, i’m sure it won’t be a problem!” 

 

“But it could still harm you.” Sans argued, frowning as he followed you. “That’s dumb.” 

 

“Is it, though?” you sat down on the couch, crossing your legs and looking up at him. “The important part of all this is to get Gaster out of that dimension. A little seizures here and there won’t do any bad.” You smiled, “Besides, even if I  _ do  _ get brain damage, think about it. Little young me with no degree and a fucked up brain, or an immortal scientist with experience in a world of infinite possibility.” You raised an eyebrow, “Which would be more beneficial to the world. Me, or your dad?” 

 

Sans’ frown doubled in size. You had a point, he guessed, but it still made him feel sick. “You can’t put someone else’s life in front of yours like that.” Sans muttered, flopping onto the couch next to you. You had done the same thing for Tooth, and he began to wonder if you had a death wish. 

 

“Sure I can!” You grinned, teeth and all. The scar below your earlobe stretched a bit, and Sans could see a flicker of pain spread across your expression before you shooed it away. “I’m not saying I’m worthless, just that Gaster is worth more than me. Plus,” You reached a hand out, and touched Sans knee. “I don’t have a family waiting for me. Gaster does.” Your eyes filled with compassion, and it warmed Sans’ heart and chilled his spine at the same time. “Besides, this is all based on the hypothetical that the Gaster-related Seizures are harmful to my brain. And the EEG’s say that it’s doing nothing to me, so this is all futile anyway. Moving on!” You pat his knee. “Don’t you have to go back to your desk anyway?” 

 

“Uhh,” Sans said, looking at his desk, “Yeah. Yeah.” He stood. 

 

“I’ll be here,” You smiled at him, and he gave you a half-grimace in return. He walked away, flopping into the seat behind the desk at letting himself stare aimlessly at the few papers on it. He couldn’t tell with you; he didn’t know if you had a death wish, or were  _ truly  _ just... was dumb the right word? Self sacrificing? No matter the answer, that smile on your face made him want to yell at you and hug you at the same time. 

 

You were so... 

 

He sighed, picking up and looking through the papers strewn across his desk. You were incorrigible. 

 

_______________   
_______________

 

“So their determination allowed them to control time.” You reiterated, sipping at your coffee and rubbing your eyes. You had pulled an all-nighter last night, sifting through the dozens of books Sans had brought home from the library. Eventually, Sans had begun to share with you his own experiences and research. 

 

You were sure that if you didn’t have a monster living in your imagination, you would have had more difficulty accepting his stories. Instead, you had listened intently, understood, and even held him close when he cried. It had taken quite a few hours, and by the time the entire story was out, the sun was rising over the horizon, shining through the window on you and Sans, curled up on the couch together, the front of your shirt stained blue. 

 

You had both resigned to lying on that couch for the entire day, but the crashes and stomping that came from upstairs followed by the whirlwind that was Papyrus leaving for work said otherwise. Now you both sat at the table, nursing your exhaustion with coffee, idle chatter, and a crossword. 

“Well kind of. They had limited time travel capabilities with pretty strict rules, but yes.” Sans answered, rubbing at the dark marks under his sockets. He looked over the crossword, and quickly sketched ‘search’ in one of the answer boxes. You looked it over, and nodded, elbowing him. 

 

“Nice one. What does time control have to do with Gaster, though?” 

 

“I was thinking,” Sans tapped the pen against his teeth, “What happens to the events that happened before they ‘loaded.’ Would that all go to the “potential” world?” 

 

“... _ potentially _ ,” you hummed, waiting. Sans looked at you, and you let a smile slip onto your face. He shook his head with a grin, and looked back at the crossword. You looked at it for a moment before taking his pen, and writing ‘four’ in one of the boxes. Satisfied, you took another sip of your coffee. “Are you thinking we could find Frisks loading skills to our advantage?” 

 

“We could try and use them as a kind of gate to the potential world.” 

 

“But,” You frowned, the scar over your nose twisting a bit. “How though?” 

 

“....... beats me. I can talk to them though.” 

 

“Okay.” You smiled, finishing your cup and setting it on the table. You pointed at one of the rows of boxes on the crossword. “That one is ‘window.’” 

 

“Oh.” Sans sketched the word in, and then turned to you with fluttery pupils.  “Can eye sockets be the window to souls too?” he mocked, placing his hands under his chin. You laughed, and pushed him lightly. 

 

“I guess? I don’t know, that’s a pretty out-dated saying now that we know that souls  _ actually  _ exist.” You pondered, then pointed to another box. “That one’s gotta be ‘you.’” 

 

“Why? It could be they?” 

 

“No it’s the title of a children's book. ‘You are Special.’ Max Lucado.” you poked his shoulder, “C’mon man. Get to the times.” 

 

“That’s a human book. You expect me to know all the human books?” 

 

“it’s a  _ classic  _ though!” 

 

“So is ‘new new home,’ do you know that one?” 

 

“....”

 

“Thought so.” Sans smirked, looking across the word search, and then snorting. He looked at you, an eye bone raised. “What does a pirate say?” 

 

“Arr? obviously.” 

 

“I thought this word-search was supposed to be difficult,” He pointed the pen to a one-box answer, and you laughed. 

 

“Oh my god that’s an actual answer!” You snorted as Sans put in ‘R’ as the answer. “That’s ridiculous.” 

 

“Yeah, you’d have to be a real bonehead to not get that one.” 

 

“Sans.” you warned, and Sans just winked at you. You sighed, looking at the answers again. Ah. “That one is-” 

 

“Adore?” Sans filled in for you, and you looked at him. He was a few inches from your face, an odd look in his eyes. It made your heart feel warm. You smiled at him, and looked back down at the word-search. 

 

“Yeah,” you answered, and he sketched the word in. 

 

_________________

_________________

 

You yawned, tensing up your muscles and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. 

 

“OH HUMAN! ARE YOU WEARY? WE CAN CONTINUE WATCHING THE MOVIE AT A LATER DATE!” Papyrus shouted from right next to your ear, successfully shaking away your yawns. 

 

“No, I’m fine now,” you mumbled, pulling at the blankets that you were wrapped up in. “We can keep watching.” 

 

“ARE YOU SURE? THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS WAS TO BE SURE YOU GOT REST!” 

 

“No no i’m fine,” you pushed, “besides, this is comfortable.” 

 

“OH! WELL OKAY THEN!” Papyrus nodded, and you felt the weight of his arms around you again, grabbing his own elbows and resting his head on the top of yours. You felt like a teddybear in his massive arms. 

 

How you found yourself wrapped in at least 8 blankets and trapped in Papyrus’s lap was almost inevitable with how much work you were doing lately. Sans had gone to the library without you for a couple of days now; you stayed at home with all the books the two of you had checked out, and poured over them for the entire day. You only stopped when Sans came home, and you explained to him everything you found (most of the time, nothing). You’d normally finish talking with sans right as Papyrus walked through the door. Then the three of you would chit chat while one of you (meaning either you or Papyrus) cooked dinner. You’d all eat, and then you’d start your homework. You’d get to bed by about 2 or 3 am, speak with Gaster about your discoveries, and start the whole process again at 7am the next day. Needless to say, you began to wear out. By the third day, you stopped being able to visit Gaster at night. You presumed it was because you weren’t dreaming anymore. It was the fourth day that was the kicker. 

 

Sleep, or lack of it, is a huge factor in seizures. You admit you should have been more careful, but you were just so  _ pumped!  _

 

So, when Papyrus got home early one day, bursting through the door in the strictly Papyrus way, it was inevitable for you to drop out of your chair. 

 

_ You need more rest, Resilient One! Please do not do this to yourself, I am in no danger here. Please take more care of yourself.  _

 

When you were able to move your limbs again, and you opened your eyes, you found yourself in Papyrus’s arms, looking at an  _ extremely  _ worried face. You answered all his questions, and he diagnosed you with “EXTREMELY IRRESPONSIBLE OVER-WORKING SYNDROME! SANS IS A BAD INFLUENCE ON YOU!” 

 

What he also did was “ADMINISTER THE PROPER TREATMENT! A HUMAN BURRITO AND A MARATHON OF FUNNY MOVIES!” 

 

So now here you were, a human burrito, in the middle of your third movie: Penguins of Madagascar, when Sans came walking through the door. You looked up from the movie and watched him drop his bag by the front door and kick off his shoes. He looked up, and made instant eye contact with you. You watched his gaze flicker from your eyes to your current burrito state, and he gave you a lazy smile. 

 

“Irresponsible over-working syndrome?” He smirked, and you nodded from the sea of blankets. 

 

“SANS YOU ARE A HORRIBLE INFLUENCE ON THE HUMAN! DO YOU SEE WHAT I HAVE TO DO TO CURE THEM?” 

 

“Yeah i do,” Sans drawled, walking over and dropping onto the couch behind you and Papyrus. “In fact, I’m kind of jealous, bro. I think I got a case of irresponsible over-working syndrome too.” 

 

“OH NO!” Papyrus wailed, “HOW SHALL I ADMINISTER TREATMENT TO TWO PATIENTS AT ONCE!” 

 

“Maybe by not breaking my eardrums,” you provided, bringing a chuckle from Sans. 

 

“I HAVE A BETTER IDEA!” And suddenly you were moving. Papyrus stood up, still carrying you in his arms, and turned around. You saw Sans’s eyes go wide. 

  
“No wait bro-UHF!” Papyrus dropped you right on top of Sans, turned around, and marched away. 

 

“Sorry sorry!” you scrambled to free yourself from the burrito of blankets and get off of Sans.    
  


“No, no it’s fine. He’ll be back in a few seconds anyway. Just..uhh.. Roll?” 

 

“Oh!” You rolled your burrito self off of Sans and onto the ground, the blankets unfurling around you and letting you free. You lay in the center of the blankets, huffing for a moment before letting yourself laugh. “Why didn’t I think of that?” 

 

“Probably because you were a little  _ tied up _ ,” Sans provided. 

 

“Probably,” you mused, staring at the ceiling. “Where did he go, anyway?” 

 

“For more blankets,” Sans said right as Papyrus waltzed back into the room, arms full of more blankets. “He’s probably gonna try and cocoon and hold us both at the same time. 

 

“I don’t think there’s enough space in even  _ his  _ arms for that.” 

 

“NONSENSE!” Papyrus shouted, head held high. “I’LL JUST PUT YOU IN THE SAME BLANKETS!” 

 

“Oh!” You laughed. Why didn’t you see that coming? It was the only reasonable answer. 

 

“Wait bro. No.” 

 

“WHY NOT, BROTHER? IT IS THE PERFECT SOLUTION! NOW COME HERE!” You sat up, watching as Sans scrambled from the couch, only to be plucked from the ground by his jacket, and held in the air by a stern brother. “DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE YOUR TREATMENT!” Papyrus tskd, dropping him next to you on the blankets. 

 

“Bro I don’t think the human wants to be wrapped up next to a bag-o-bones like me. It’ll be uncomfortable.” 

 

“No it’s fine,” you provided with a smile. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to get comfortable! I’m not gonna impede on your treatment.” You winked at Sans, and his entire face lit up in a bright blue. 

 

“But you’ve, ah, you’ve got Sam, ya’know?” 

 

You scoffed. “Sam would never let me pass snuggle time!” you held a hand to your chest, faking offense. “Do you really think I’d place them over mad snuggle time?” 

 

“Uhh,” Sans stared blankly at you as Papyrus spread out even more blankets. The larger skeleton picked you up under the arms, and lifted you into the air, tucking you under one of his arms as he shooed Sans off the small blanket pile on the floor. Sans hopped back onto the couch, still giving you a peculiar look as Papyrus tossed more blankets onto the pile, and dropped you back onto it. 

 

“LIE FLAT!” Papyrus commanded, and you followed his decree with a laugh. He picked Sans up and dropped him next to you before folding the both of you in the mass of blankets, lifting you up and wrapping his arms around both of you. Finally, he plopped in front of the couch again, and snuggled you both close. 

 

You were pressed against Sans rather awkwardly; your arm and his were squished against each other and bent at odd directions. Your legs seemed to have the same problem, and you grimaced at him. “Sorry,” you gave him a guilty smile, “I thought it would be more comfortable than this...” 

 

“Nah, it’s cool,” Sans shrugged, and then began shifting in the burrito of blankets. After a bit of movement, he had his arm around your shoulders, and your leg and his slightly twined with each other. It was much more comfortable, but you immediately had the weirdest mix of feelings. 

 

One: You felt comfortable; more comfortable than you have been in a very long time. Heh. You figured you must have been suffering from a rather large lack of snuggle-time. Plus, you could feel Gaster’s emotions wriggling in the back of your mind, elated to be so close with his two sons again. 

 

Which brought you to the second emotion: Complete outrage and embarrassment that your son would be so  _ forward  _ with your nearly adoptive daughter- wait....

 

No those weren’t your emotions. 

 

_ Gaster!  _ You frowned, feeling the emotions ebb away slowly. You nodded once, glad to have your own emotions back, and then paused. 

 

Forward? 

 

But he wasn’t flirting or anything. This was just snuggles. You looked at Sans again, and his gaze almost instantly found yours. He gave you a soft smile, and-

 

_ Throb _ . 

 

Oh.....

 

Well then.  

 

You looked away, feeling heat paint your cheeks. He  _ was  _ pretty darn close. You felt a squeeze around your shoulders, and suddenly his head was right next to your ear. 

 

“You okay?” He asked, and you felt yourself blushing more. 

 

“Y-yeah!” You squeaked, burying into the covers. 

 

You were fine. 

 

...

 

You were fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to ask or clarify anything! 
> 
> Kudos make a happy Cicir? 
> 
> *nervous laugh*   
> *dips out*


	13. OHHPAA!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Souls, Determination, Potential, Fluff, and two voices in your head that may just have the answers....
> 
> Heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the slow update, guys. I'm not gonna go into it on every one of my fictions, so yeah. Here's the next chapter! 
> 
> and art. 
> 
> http://bmm113.deviantart.com/art/10-ft-Tall-firefighter-Papyrus-595414720
> 
> YEAH!!!! 
> 
> Uhm. I love you all.

Well......

 

Fuck. 

 

You sat on the couch, staring at the TV, mind lost in things other than the blank screen. Books covered the entire couch to the point where one wrong move would shower you in an avalanche of paper. Multiple “Free Edgar 201X” notebooks found there way in-between the books. Notebook number 1 through 4 sprawled at your feet. 5 and 6 were closer at hand, and 7 lay right next to you, open to an empty page. 

 

Fuck. This wasn’t in your plans. 

 

Well,  _ nothing  _ was in your plans, but this  _ especially  _ wasn’t in your plans. You thought your plans consisted of finding out how to save Gaster, saving Gaster, and then continuing your life seizure free. Sure, Sans and Papyrus were still in your seizure free life, (If they still wanted to after Sans got his father) but not... not in the way the warmth in your heart insinuated. 

 

You let out a slow sigh, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. 

 

A chuckle. 

 

You hadn’t felt this warmth in... 

 

You shook your head back and forth a bit, and turned your attention back to the book resting in your lap. You lifted it, finding your place again and continuing your reading, lips moving with the words on the page. 

 

You couldn’t let yourself entertain these thoughts. You let out a stiff laugh. There was a fully grown scientist trapped in nothingness, and your mind was the only way to communicate with this world, and here you were thinking about your possible romantic interest in this same scientists’ son...

 

You felt a prickle in the back of your mind, a burst of intrigue aimed at yourself for feeling an interest in your son...

 

Err. 

 

You shook your head back and forth, trying to dispel Gaster’s beginnings of shipping from your mind and return to your reading. 

 

“....argue that each color of soul has it’s own special abilities. Therefore, where humans lack in practical magical capacity, they gain in unlockable potential. It is very rare, though, for a human to actually unlock this potential. Socrates concluded that the unlocking of one soul’s capacity, depending on the soul’s color and the ability that is revealed, could amount to  _ thousands  _ of years of study. When Socrates states that, ‘The unexamined life is not worth living,’ he not only refers to the pursuit of Absolute Knowledge of the universe, but also the Absolute Knowledge of Self, in attempt to unlock your potential. Eastern philosophers like Buddha argue that this unlocking could be ‘enlightenment,’ or Nirvana, and should be the only thing strived for throughout life. Some philosophers conclude that Socrates and Buddha had unlocked their potential during their lifetime, and it is that that allowed their words to hold such truth.

 

“In fact, most philosophers who submit to the “Potential” belief argue that almost, if not all world leaders and historically precedented figures have all been ‘unlocked. Some argue that even the Ambassador of the Monsters, Frisk Dreemurr, had unlocked the potential of their soul, calling their ability, “Determination.”  The controversy around the existence of ‘Determination,’ though, has provided for the dropping of the topic altogether.

 

Some philosophers still believe that the next step to Human Evolution is the widespread belief in “Potential,” and the search for World Wide enlightenment. There have been classes around the world.....”

 

You skimmed the next few paragraphs as the author spoke of the attempt to commercialize the “potential” belief, the religions that spawned from chasing it, and the time period where cults formed and attempted to “nearly murder” an innumerable amount of people in attempt to “scare them into enlightenment.” Finally, after getting to “Hypothesized Enlightened beings: A 200 page chronological list,” you just flipped to and read the last page. 

 

“.......The “Potential” belief is heavily debated among small circles, but otherwise ignored by the large populace. Some say it is ignored because the successful do not want their secret revealed Others say that the abilities provided could be both immensely helpful to the world, such as heightened engineering or super-genius, but there could be others that are either detrimental to the world as we know it. Concerns are worded about the possibility of potential in the hands of the wrong person, or an ability that could start wars rather than end them. Finally, there are arguments of abilities unlocked that may just provide controversy and confusion to the way the world works. Gravity control, creating something out of nothing, time travel, the likes. 

 

For now, everything is hypothetical and should be taken with a grain of salt, but if ‘Potential’ does exist, then it could be a game-changer for both Humans AND Monsters.” 

 

You took a breath, dropping the book down to your lap once more, eyes wide. Did the “potential” that this author spoke of, and the world of infinite potential that Gaster existed in have a connection? If these two DID have a connection, didn’t that mean that there was a more tangible connection between here and  _ there  _ than Gaster thought? 

 

You reached to your side, grabbing the seventh notebook and then shoving your hands into the cushions of the couches in search of your pencil.

 

You’d have to check the library for more books on “potential,” and do some serious internet searching as well if you wanted a full encompassing understanding, but this...  _ this  _ looked like an  _ actual  _ lead! Ah. There’s your pencil! You yanked it from the deep recesses of the couch, letting out a triumphant grunt, and then nearly jumping out of your skin at the unexpected chuckle that followed. You looked toward the front door, heart only relaxing when you saw Sans give you a lazy wave. 

 

“You’d think after spending so much time in your mountain of books, you’d have  _ marrowed  _ down the selection,” He drawled, walking over to the couch, and stopping a good two feet away, staring at the maze that was your book pile. His face pulled into concentration as he tried to find a way to join you on the couch. Finally, he looked up at you and waved his hand in the universal “Scoot over” signal. 

 

“Uhh,” You looked around you. How were you supposed to... You reached out, pressing a hand on top of the most precariously stacked pile of books and holding it steady as you attempted to scooch to the left. A few seconds of very concentrated scooching, and you had space enough for half a Sans. 

 

Which, apparently, was enough space for a whole Sans. In the barely vacant space you provided, he suddenly existed, resting on his side and facing you, his head propped up by his hand, his other hand on his waist. “Paint me like one of your french girls,” He gave you a sultry look. 

 

You lost it, falling on top of him and letting the avalanche of books happen, covering both of you in hardcover books and giggles. You found yourself in the most uncomfortable position in your life; you weren’t sure if those were books or ribs that jabbed into your sides, but it wasn’t comfortable either way. You would have tried to fix it, but you were too lost in laughing all your breath away. You finally relaxed a bit, and tried to roll over to look at him, but you found yourself stuck between a book and a Sans Place. You laughed at your play on words, and then grunted. 

 

“Here, let me.” Sans said, and waved a hand. The books avalanched atop and around you gained a faint blue hue around them, and began to shift and move, lifting off the couch, and stacking themselves on the ground. 

 

_ You screamed. Your hands worked again, and you reached up, grasping at your middle, clutching and pulling at blood-soaked cloth. Where was the rebar?  _

 

_ Why were your hands glowing?  _

 

Your breath shuddered as visions that weren’t yours permeated your mind, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Ghost pain shot through your body- where were your legs!? 

 

You whimpered, and the books still in the air tumbled down. You felt hands on your shoulders, lifting you from your awkward position over Sans’s lap. You could hear his nervous voice asking if you were okay, asking you to wake up. 

 

_ “Wake up! Please wake up. Oh god. What am I supposed to tell Pap? Oh god please, just wake up!” _

 

“Hey stick with me, alright? Kid? Fuck how long are these supposed to last?” You choked on your throat, trying to pull away from the searing pain, to concentrate on the hands on your shoulders. Those were real. Those were real. Just wait for this to pass. 

 

_ A Syllogism the second! One: probability is a factor which operates within natural forces. Two, probability is not operating as a factor. Three, we are now within un-, sub- or supernatural forces. Discuss! _

 

You shuddered for breath, unanswering. 

 

_ Not to heatedly... _

 

_ I'm sorry, I - What's the matter with you? _

 

It passed. The pain faded, you could feel your legs again, and Sans’s worried face swam into view. He let out an audible sigh, worry releasing into relief when you made eye contact with him. 

 

“Y’know, knowing where your seizures come from doesn’t make them any easier to see.” He said, squeezing your shoulders. You give him a shaky smile, breath heavy. 

 

“Y-yeah,” You said with a frown. “D-doesn’t make em any easier to h-have either.” 

 

“You okay?” 

 

“..... yeah..... M’fine.” You looked away, wiggling your toes and reveling in your voice. You closed your eyes and gave yourself a comforting breath. Your body felt exhausted. You just wanted to lie down. And those voices... They sounded familiar... but also like you had never heard them before... 

 

“....Alright...” Sans sounded apprehensious, but you ignored it. 

 

“So I was thinking,” You said, eyes still closed. You felt Sans shift next to you, giving you a bit more space as the couch was less  _ booked _ .  With him not pressed to your side, you took the chance to shift. You lifted your legs off the ground and pulled them onto the couch and over Sans’s lap, trapping him as you lied on the couch, hands behind your head. You opened your eyes and looked at him. He had glanced at your jeaned legs, then up at you with a smirk. 

 

“Mmm?” He asked, resting his hands on your shins. You smiled, and looked up. 

 

“If Frisks’ Determination thing doesn’t work, we could try to see if I have an ability.” 

 

“Mmm?” He said again, hands trailing down to your bare feet, and tapping his phalanges on your toes. You looked at him again; he looked  _ enraptured  _ by your little digits, pressing the tip of his fingers to the tip of each of your toes, and moving them back and forth as he undulated his hand. You snorted, but didn’t stop him. Admittedly, it felt weird to have his hands on your toes; the doctors had worked on areas of your body that would be  _ shown _ , so your feet were pretty neglected during the healing process. Therefore, the skin on you feet looked pretty much completely melted off and dried on again, and you had little to no feeling on the surface of your toes. It was like he was touching something that was numb. It actually felt kind of...good?

 

You still needed to put the lotion on it, though. 

 

“Well, what if it’s my special ability that allowed Gaster to even enter my mind? Maybe it’s that ability that will be able to free him too?” 

 

“Mmm...” he pinched your ring toe between his phalanges, and uncurled it. 

 

“Are you even listening?” You asked, slightly irked but mostly amused. 

 

“Why does your toe curl like this?” He pondered, pulling at it a bit. 

 

“Uhh...” You blinked, “Ya Know, I don’t know! Maybe because we wear shoes a lot or something?” 

 

“Mmm...” Sans trailed off again, poking at the toes. “I wouldn’t know how to go about finding your ability, but it’s a good hypothesis. It’s bet _ toe  _ than nothing.” 

 

“S _ toe _ p it.” You moved your foot to whack him in the gut. He chuckled as you rest your leg over his lap again, and went back to your toes. 

 

Sans chuckled, returning his hands to your toes, “Did you find anything else worth value in this mountain?” 

 

“Mm, not much,” you looked over the books. “Just a lot of theory completely disproven by the existence of the Potential World. Kinda upsetting,” You frowned and let out a huff. “I’ve gotta return more than half of these tomorrow so someone else can read and  _ believe _ .” You jazz handed. Sans laughed.

 

You liked that laugh. You could feel yourself raise in spirit a bit. 

 

“So time travel and soul-power are the only things you’ve found?” He questioned, grabbing your second toe and curling it backward, then pushing it forward, checking its movement range. 

 

Ah. There go your spirits again. “....yeah that’s it... Sorry. I’ve been here all day, and I found practically jack shit.” 

 

“Books can be shit sometimes. It was worth a try at least,” He hummed, “But at least we know now that they are mostly useless. I can talk to Alphys, see if she has any scientist friends dabbling in hypotheticals.” 

 

“Alphys?” You scrunched your eyebrows. 

 

“Ohhh right you haven’t met them.” His pupils widened a bit, and he turned to you. “We’ll have to schedule a time to meet. If they come here unexpectedly and find you here, I’m never gonna be  _ herring  _ the end of it.” 

 

“Herring?” 

 

“Alphy’s wife is a fish.” 

 

“....i’m assuming you don’t mean a small swimming creature that we eat at sushi bars, but a fish monster?” 

 

“No it’s a fish.” He moved onto your third toe, shifting it back and forth. 

 

“..... you’re lying.” 

 

“I could be.” He grabbed all your toes in his hands, squeezing lightly. 

 

“You  _ are _ .” 

 

“Alphys  _ is  _ eccentric.” He hummed. 

 

“Stop it!” You leaned up, smacking his ulna. He laughed, leaning away, and-

 

CRRACK! 

 

Sans froze, hand still wrapped around your foot. With his shifting, he had pulled back on your foot, and popped all your toes. His eyes shot down to your foot, his entire body solid and unmoving as a statue. You could see the panic bleed into his face as he slowly moved his hand away from your foot. 

 

And you were a cruel human being with a wicked sense of humor. 

 

“AAAOOOOHHHHHH!!!!” You hollered, ripping your legs off of him and grabbing your foot, wailing in “agony” and cradling your poor cracked toes. You rocked back and forth, face twisted in pain as you let out whimpers and cries. 

 

“Ohhh my god oh my god oh my god!” Sans chanted, jumping off the couch and hovering over you, hands frozen in midair, no idea what to do. “I’m SO sorry!” He cried, jaw hanging open as his eyes shot back and forth from your foot to your face, trying to figure out what to do. “Let me get ice!” He finally concluded, running off to the kitchen. 

 

You made your wails louder, just to be sure he heard your “pain” while he was getting ice.    
  


“OOOWWWWWWW OOOHHHHH EEAAAAUUHHHH!!!” 

 

The door slammed open, scaring you from your wails. 

 

“HUMAN ARE YOU ALRIGHT!?” Papyrus bounded inside, smacking his head against the doorframe as he didn’t stoop enough in his hurry. He dropping his bag on the floor as he ran to you. “OH NO! YOU ARE HURT!” Papyrus yelled, observing your “pained” state. 

 

You stopped yelling, “No wait pap-” 

 

“FEAR NOT THOUGH! FOR I, THE GREAT” did he just roll his R? “PAPYRUS, KNOWS WHERE THE NEAREST HOSPITAL IS LOCATED!” He bent down, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. You whizzed through the air, almost losing yourself at the sudden movement as he cradled you in his gargantuan arms.

 

“No pap hold on-” You tried, squirming from his arms, but he held fast. You saw Sans stop in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a bag of peas. 

 

You could see the realization dawn on his face. 

 

“WE LEAVE IMMEDIATELY!” Papyrus shouted, and began running toward the front door again.    
  


“Wait Pap no! I’m fine I’m fine!” You raised your hands, grabbing at the front of his shirt and pulling. 

 

“PREPOSTEROUS!” Papyrus stopped, looking down as to scold you, “I HEARD YOUR YELLING FROM NEARLY DOWN THE STREET! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE FINE?” 

 

“I was lying! I was lying! I wanted to scare Sans!” 

 

Papyrus stopped, frozen for a moment before looking down at you, the disappointment in his face making you feel like the worst human in the world. 

 

“WELL I NEVER!” 

 

“That’s  _ pea _ pos _ toe _ rous.” Sans lounged against the wall, holding the frozen peas still. You gave him a guilty grimace. 

 

“I’m sorry, I just- your reaction! I had to!” 

 

“You had  _ toe?”  _

 

“Goddamnit Sans!” 

 

“You deserve it.” He smirked at you, crossing his arms. “You had me going though.” 

 

“I, AS WELL, HAVE FALLEN FOR YOUR JAPE! VERY CLEVER, HUMAN! BUT A VERY VILE JOKE. PLEASE DON’T DO IT AGAIN.” 

 

“....ok...” 

 

“GOOD!” Papyrus put you down, and you shifted on your feet. He pat your head. “I WOULD NOT WANT POOR SANS TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK OVER YOUR WELL BEING AGAIN!” 

 

“I don’t have a heart, Paps.” 

 

“SANS!” 

 

You laughed at Papyrus’s twisted face, “Don’t worry, Paps. I’m fine. Sans just cracked my toe, that’s it.” 

 

“CRACKED YOUR TOE?” 

 

“Yeah,” You blinked, “you know,” you twined your fingers together and twisted your arms out, cracking all your fingers at the same time. 

 

“OH MY GOD!” Papyrus screeched, jumping back and holding his hands out defensively. “WHAT IS THAT SORCERY?” 

 

“It’s just my fingers....” You raise an eyebrow, untwining your fingers, and pulling on your thumbs, one after the other. 

 

Pop!

 

Pop!

 

“I CAN’T TAKE IT!” Papyrus yelled, and was up the stairs before you could even register that he was moving. 

 

“You sure that’s normal? Bones aren’t supposed to do that...” Sans cut in, face twisted in concern. 

 

“Oh, It’s not my bones, actually. It’s the joint fluid between my bones like... creating a cavity or something? I dunno. But it’s not dangerous. Just a thing.” 

 

“It sounds  _ toe _ rrible.” 

 

“Stop. Please.” 

 

“Just sayin” Sans shrugged, and went back to the kitchen to return the peas to the freezer. “You really had me goin’ though.” He called from the kitchen. 

 

“Call it revenge for trying to convince me that Alphys is dating a fish.” You retorted, trailing back to the couch and flopping. 

 

“Well she is.” 

 

“Actually, popping my knuckles is detrimental to my health, and i’m going to die in a few minutes.” 

 

“Noooo waaaiiit dooonnn’t...” Sans drawled. You laughed as he found his way next to you again. He sat on the opposite side of the couch, looked pointedly at you, and pat his lap. You stared at him. He pat his legs again; you raised your eyebrow. He rolled his eyes. “Well? I can’t wait here all day. Get your legs back up here.” 

 

Oh. Right. You began to lift your legs back to his lap when you paused. “Wait,” You squinted your eyes, “Since when could you tell me what to do?” 

 

“Since right now. Legs. C’mon.” He pat his lap again, and you smirked. 

 

“And if I don’t want to? I could just stay over here.” You gave him an ornery look. In honesty, you didn’t care where your legs were; this was just fun. 

 

Were you flirting? 

 

....

 

You were flirting. Bad you. No. 

 

“That’s a pretty  _ weightless  _ threat.” He lifted his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, and leaned back. You paused. 

 

“Don’t you mean an empty threat?” 

 

“Nope.” He opened a socket, and a heat rushed across your skin at the flickering blue gaze. “I meant  _ weightless.”  _  And, you should have guessed, you were weightless, rising up off the couch like Gravity just decided it didn’t like you. You squeaked as your body shifted around a bit, your legs now over Sans’s lap. He paused, “You know, I think I don’t really want your feet anymore.” He mused, and you were slowly spinning in the air. A few moments later, you found yourself with your head in his lap, your feet resting over the side of the couch. He looked down at you with a cocky grin, and it made you want to both smack and kiss it off his face at the same time. 

 

You mean...

 

.......Fuck. 

 

You swallowed, grasping for a topic to get your mind off of his face. “...s-so... I didn’t take my medication today...” You trailed off, still staring at him. 

 

His smirk almost immediately disappeared; he frowned at you. “I told you that was dumb.” 

 

“And I told you to suck it. Besides, I’ve only had one seizure today. Barely a difference.” 

 

“But it was worse.” His eyes glazed over, gained a darkness that made you slightly uncomfortable. His hands found their way to your head, his phalanges tapping your scalp. 

 

“Not by much,” you corrected, “Besides, I was in a safe place.” 

 

“But it’s still dangerous.” Sans looked away from you; you felt his hand clench against your head. He didn’t pull your hair. 

 

“But it’s not?” You frowned, “It’s just Gaster. It’s not doing anything to me physically.” 

 

“How do you know that?” His eyes shot to you, and you could  _ taste  _ the anger rolling off him. You felt your own heart begin to clench defensively. “Just because you can bounce back from things like this doesn’t make you  _ invincible! _ ” 

 

“I have a thousand EEG’s to prove that it’s not doing anything to me!” You spat back, “I’ve been through this a million times, Sans. Trust me. I know.” 

 

“You’re not a neurologist, though! And this thing with Gaster.” His hands raised, motioning toward nothing in particular. “This is a  _ whole new beast _ ! It could not be affecting you physically, but what if it’s affecting you some  _ other  _ way!” 

 

“Then the medication wouldn’t be making a difference in how often I have seizures.” You forced yourself to stay calm. You’ve been through this. You know what it’s like to respond in anger. You couldn’t. “So since it does, it’s a physical thing.” 

 

“Then it’s harming you physically!” He raised his voice, arms flying into the air for a moment before dropping, one on your stomach and one on the arm-rest. “Can’t you just take the medication.” 

 

You looked up at him, and frowned. “Sans...” 

 

“I’m scared,” he continues, looking down at you with sad eyes. You paused, staring at him. He took a heavy breath in, and closed his eyes. “I know what’s going on with you, but i  _ don’t  _ know what’s going on with you. I practically know everything there is to know about every science field in the world  _ except  _ this whole potential world thing... because  _ no one  _ knows about this....” His phalanges found your head again, and tugged lightly at your short hair. It didn’t hurt, but you felt it was maybe his way of calming himself down. He gave himself a dark laugh, “Heh, you’d think i’d be equipped for everything, with how much I  _ know,  _ but it’s just my luck that it’s the one unexplained scientific field that proves itself useful...” 

 

He lifted his other hand to his face, and dragged it across his features. “I guess.... I’m just afraid.” 

 

_ A scientific approach to the examination of phenomena is a defence against the pure emotion of fear.  _

 

You took a sharp breath in, suddenly realizing where you remembered those voices from, startling Sans from his musings. He looked down at you, concerned. “You alri-” his voice faded out. 

 

_ Keep tight hold and continue while there's time. _

 

How could a voice be so familiar and so foreign at the same time? You had  _ every word  _ he’s  _ ever said  _ memorized, but you’ve never heard his voice. 

 

“Hey! Earth to Beautiful! You in there?” 

 

You shot up from Sans’s lap, and almost immediately felt his hands on your shoulders, gripping you tightly. You took some comfort in it, but your mind was racing now. You had to... You had to-! “Bottle!” You spat out, eyes scanning the room. How much time did you have? How long would he be there? How long would  _ they  _ be there? 

 

“Bottle?” 

 

“A glass bottle! I need one!” You turned to him now, clutching his shoulders in the same way he did yours, and stared into his eyes. “It’s of utmost importance!” 

 

_ Now - counter to the previous syllogism: tricky one, follow me carefully, it may prove a comfort. _

 

His face flickered with confusion, but when you shook him slightly, he finally steeled his expression with a nod, and flicked out of existence. You sat there in the empty room, heart hammering in your chest. 

 

You told yourself you had time. They wouldn’t leave that fast... He hadn’t even gotten to the the unicorn. No, you had time. You had time...But how long would they be in  _ your  _ mind, and not just wandering the expanse of Potential as they always did? 

 

It took you a moment to realize Sans was back, holding an empty beer bottle in his hand. Once you noticed him, you let out a relieved sigh, and grabbed the bottle he offered you. You stood, walking to the front door. Yeah. The front door was hard enough. 

 

You heard Sans follow behind you, “What are you doing. Where are you going? ____.” 

 

You realized right before you reached the door that Sans was going to be  _ really  _ mad once you got back. 

 

....

 

You’d deal with that when the time came. 

 

You raised your hand above your head, and then chucked the bottle at the front door with all your might. It shattered against the solid wood, sending broken glass in all directions, the sound sending reverberations through the whole downstairs. 

 

And, most importantly, sending your eyes to the back of your head, and your body limply falling to the ground. 

 

The only thing you heard before you were gone was Sans’s panicked cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/youlearntolivewithit
> 
> I don't know why i have a tumblr for this one. No one checks it out, it's p much dead. ohwell. there it is. 
> 
> This chap was p plot heavy, and the next chapter will be as well. Just sayin :)
> 
> Kudos and comments. I feel like when I say that, i'm like this begging athor on the side of the street holding a sign. "Will write for Validation"


	14. Do you want to play a game?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You fall into the Potential world, and meet the author's OTP and BROTP at the same time. 
> 
> But it's not because i'm trash, but because They are literally one of the best equipped pairs for the plot. I swear. 
> 
> ....
> 
> I swear!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. I wish I did. Because then I would be my own role model. But shit. Tom Stoppard is an amazing play wright and i love him with all my heart. 
> 
> umm...
> 
> You can buy the book on Amazon for a penny!  
> Here's the PDF  
> http://www.mychandlerschools.org/cms/lib6/AZ01001175/Centricity/Domain/963/Rosencrantz%20and%20Guildenstern%20Are%20Dead%20full%20text.pdf
> 
> uhh... it's amazing? You don't necissarily need it to understand this chapter, but reading the first...say... 10 or so pages... would make it funnier? I dunno. ctrl f the word "questions" and read that shit. or watch these.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=damC8judoLc  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnaKLSylA7M
> 
> UHGGHHH IT"S JUST GREAT OKAY?
> 
> OKAY TIME FOR FANART STUFF
> 
> http://youlearntolivewithit.tumblr.com/  
> to find it all in one place, but for natural shout outs, we've got:::  
> we've got GoatMom with Burrito babies (SUPER CUTE!) and Sans going "WHY THE FUCK WOULD WOULD YOU DO THAT" in response to the end of chap 13. That facial expression. and the shirt. priceless.  
> http://bmm113.deviantart.com/art/Blanket-burrito-babies-598063354?ga_submit_new=10%253A1458592035  
> http://bmm113.deviantart.com/art/Fanfic-doodle-596900764?ga_submit_new=10%253A1458095647
> 
> We've got Oresamawesome with Papyrus saving Reader from the fire. The emotion in this one had me choking on my throat, to be honest. like. Wowsers.  
> http://oresamawesome.tumblr.com/post/141347744464/so-ive-spent-a-total-of-16-hours-drawing-this
> 
> DOn't forget to check out these lovelies blogs for more art! They're both great artists, and I love and appreciate them so much! 
> 
> umm. Yeah. Love ya'all!

Gaster was confused. 

 

Very confused. 

 

He was calmly relaxing in a chair he had summoned, drinking some Golden Flower tea and watching the expanses of everything float about the sky, when a single coin had dropped at his feet. He brought his cup down from his lips, and stared at it as it spun on the ground, and finally ceased movement, a head looking lifelessly up at him. He blinked, leaning out of his chair and reaching for the coin, only to be interrupted by another, much more human hand intercepting him. The fingers deftly grabbed the coin, and then paused as the head connected to those fingers nearly bumped into Gaster’s. Gaster turned, and made eye contact with a pair of the most innocent blue eyes he had ever seen, frozen like a doe’s. The human was male, lanky, brunette.

 

“Pardon,” the stranger said, and Gaster started, pulling his hand away from the coin. The human’s face split into a smile, and he pulled the coin to himself, staring at it for a moment before proudly proclaiming, “Heads!” He paused for a moment, looking at the coin, and then his face fell. “I’m afraid...” He trailed off, looking away from Gaster, behind him. 

 

“So am I,” a second voice joined in. Gaster looked up to see a very angry looking, dark skinned male staring at nothing as he scratched his bearded chin. 

 

“I’m afraid it isn’t your day,” The first human said, pocketing the coin and standing. The second human looked to the first, and grimaced. 

 

“I’m afraid it  _ is _ .” He replied, silencing the three companions for a moment. 

 

“Eighty nine,” the tall one said. 

 

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Gaster said, bewildered at the intrusion. This hadn’t happened before. Ever. 

 

“ It must be indicative of something,” The bearded one mused, “besides the redistribution of wealth. List of possible explanations. One: I'm willing it. Inside where nothing shows, I'm the essence of a man spinning double-headed coins, and betting against himself in private atonement for an unremembered past.” 

 

“Well. That’s rather dark,” Gaster provided, realizing he had been ignored. The tall one looked at Gaster again, and shrugged. 

  
“Rosencrantz gets like this sometimes.” 

 

“Guildenstern!” The bearded man said angrily, making the taller one jump. 

 

“Yes?” The tall one answered, which seemed to only anger the short one. 

 

“No! You are Rosencrantz!” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Yes!” The bearded one, who Gaster assumed was Guildenstern, nodded in approval, and then turned away again, returning to his musings. “Two: time has stopped dead, and a single experience of one coin being spun once has been repeated ninety times...” 

 

“Well we do exist in a dimension where Time is not a factor.” 

 

“On the whole, doubtful.” Guildenstern continued, ignoring Gaster. 

 

“Oh come on!” 

 

“Or! A Syllogism the second: one: probability is a factor which operates within natural forces. Two, probability is not operating as a factor. Three, we are now within un-, sub- or supernatural forces. Discuss!” 

 

Oh! Gaster could discuss this! He opened his mouth to reply, but paused when the world around him shimmered. He blinked, frowning. Whenever the world shimmered like that, it meant you were having a seizure. Worry clutched his gut, and he looked around for some form of connection between this world and your mind. He could almost always find it; he could see the minor moments before you joined him, or before he could talk to you. And now- in the distance, shining in the darkness as a projection on nothing- now he saw just a bottle in your hand. 

 

Or was it two bottles? A beer bottle- no- a wine bottle?

 

“Not to heatedly,” Guildenstern grumbled when neither Gaster nor Rosencrantz answered him. 

 

“I’m sorry, What’s the matter with you?” Rosencrantz accused Guildenstern, pulling Gasters attention. Right. He still had people in his little area. 

 

“I guess... I guess I’m just afraid,” Gaster could hear Sans’s distant voice. Guildenstern seemed to hear it as well, as he looked up for a moment. 

 

“A scientific approach to the examination of phenomena is a defence against the pure emotion of fear.” His eyes flicked to Rosencrantz, and he held out his hand. Rosencrantz almost immediately reached out for it, taking Guildenstern’s hand. Guildenstern’s face relaxed a bit, “Keep tight hold and continue while there's time. Now - counter to the previous syllogism: tricky one, follow me carefully, it may prove a comfort.” Guildenstern pulled Rosencrantz close, looking out into the distance, dragging Rosencrantz’s gaze in the same direction. All three, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Gaster watched from your point of view as you stared at the bottle for a few moments longer than comfortable. Gaster nearly screamed as he watched you face a door- no, a wall? -and toss the bottle at it. It shattered against the surface. 

 

The projection dissipated. Guildenstern, seemingly unfazed, continued. “If we postulate, and we just have, that within un-, sub- or supernatural forces the probability is that the law of probability will not operate as a factor, then we must accept that the probability of the first part will not operate as a factor, in which case the law of probability will operate as a factor within un-, sub- or supernatural forces.” 

 

“Oh thank GOD!” Your voice ripped from behind the trio. Gaster whipped around, and upon seeing you standing there, burst into a righteous fury. 

 

“You IMBECILE!” He screeched, flying toward you in rage. He was halted almost immediately by a hand to his chest as you pushed him aside. 

 

“No time, Gaster. You can yell at me later.” You said, almost running up to the duo still staring into the abyss. “This is important,” You continued, stopping in front of the duo with wide eyes. Both paused for a moment, looking over at you at the same time. 

 

You felt your heart jump. Here! Right in front of you, were your two favorite characters! You could barely contain your squeals of excitement, taking a quick calming breath. You had a job to do. You had information to get, and you weren’t sure how much time you had before this pair was gone. 

 

Here. In front of you. Was Rosencrantz and Guildenstern from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, a play by Tom Stoppard, where the idea of a world existing between scenes of a play is the main topic of discussion. Here stood the duo that’s lived in this world since 1964. Their entire  _ existence  _ consisted of questioning and attempting to understand “un-, sub-, or supernatural forces,” which you now knew was THIS world! 

 

So not only were you meeting your two favorite characters, but these two favorite characters were probably the most suited to help you solve your problem! You stopped in front of the duo, and paused for a moment, listening to their prattling for only a second before you could grasp who was who. You turned to the bearded one. “Guildenstern!” You nearly yelped, startling the poor man from his frantic rants. In fact, both men jumped, and the taller one was first to turn to you. 

 

“Yes?” He asked, receiving an angry smack to the shoulder from his companion. 

 

“No!” Guildenstern chastised the taller one, turning to you, “Yes?” He parroted, and you couldn’t stop the giggle. It  _ was  _ a running gag for everyone but Guildenstern to get the two’s names mixed up. You refused to be one of them though. You turned to Guildenstern with a slight bow, and he nodded proudly at you. 

 

“Guildenstern, I know you may be short on time, but I am in dire need of assistance!” You pleaded. He stroked his beard for a moment, and then waved his hand at you, motioning for you to continue. Heh. Just like him to take things in stride. You took a step to the side, and motioned toward Gaster, who stood a ways behind you, both terribly confused and horribly furious at the same time. Upon sensing the attention of all three of you (Rosencrantz found Gaster lanky legs to be of  _ utmost  _ intrigue), he let his face fall to a neutral standing, and cleared his throat. 

 

“Hello,” He introduced himself, writing his shoulders, “I am Dr. W. D. Gas-” 

 

“No,  no no!” Guildenstern interrupted Gaster, making your skeletal friend bristle. Guildenstern ignored it, walking toward Gaster with quite an adamant frown on his face. He circled the skeleton a few times, muttering “no’s” and shaking his head all the way. “You are not supposed to be here,” He said, holding one of his elbows in one hand, and stroking his beard with the other. “This isn’t right,” he continued, but then stopped, staring at Gaster. You almost laughed at how Gaster froze under Guildenstern’s scrutinizing gaze, eyes wide, but silent under the commanding man’s stature. “Why are you here?” Guildenstern asked, narrowing his eyes at Gaster. Gaster’s lips parted. 

 

“Is he here for the play?” Rosencrantz pitched in, eyes glittering. 

 

“Not now.” Guildenstern nodded his head in Rosencrantz’s general direction, to which Rosencrantz lit up in triumph. 

 

“Statement! One-Love!” 

 

“Not now!” Guildenstern’s head whipped toward Rosencrantz, who jumped in surprise. Ros blinked a few times, and then gave Guildenstern a guilty grimace. Guil just glared back, but his face quickly lost it’s sting while looking at his partner. In fact, it twisted slowly into realization, until he was muttering to himself. “No, no he couldn’t be here for the play,” He turned back to Gaster, who still stood there, frozen and confused. 

 

You, though, knew how this pair worked, and found yourself a comfortable seat on the ground. 

 

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern symbolized perfect scenario between the right and left halves of the brain, and their ability to solve any problem, subconsciously or consciously, when given enough time. Guildenstern provided  _ thought, substance _ ,  _ fact _ , while Rosencrantz provided unique perspectives and distractions enough to maintain Guildenstern’s sanity. Guildenstern solved problems with pure reasoning and logic, while Rosencrantz provided emotional context and support. Together, they were the perfect partners, an unstoppable duo of problem-solving prowess, unfortunately tossed into a world with impossible problems. 

 

And yet they lived,  _ mostly  _ happily, for eternity, building and expanding off each other, supporting each other through thick and thin, through life and death and  _ fucking Hamlet _ . 

 

Fuck Hamlet. Seriously. 

 

Either way, Proposing a question to this duo consisted of providing them a thought, and then simply sitting back, letting their combined genius work it out. And you could see this already happening as Guildenstern circled Gaster once more, and Rosencrantz flopped onto the ground, counting the tesseracts in the sky. 

 

“You’ve never seen the play before,” Guildenstern continued, making eye contact with Gaster. 

 

“The... play?” Gaster blinked. 

 

“What does that matter? Can’t he see it either way?” 

 

“No no! He’s not  _ in  _ the play, so how could he  _ see  _ the play?” Guildenstern explained quickly to Rosencrantz, who just pondered for a moment before responding. 

 

“Do you have to be in the play to see the play?” 

 

“Are you dumb?” Guildenstern shot at Rosencrantz, with absolutely no heart behind the insult. “How  _ could  _ you see the play if you’re not in the play?” 

 

Rosencrantz paused for a moment, tapping a finger to his lips, “Could you.... Watch it from the... audience?” 

 

“No!” 

 

“Statement!” 

 

“There  _ is  _ no audience!” Guildenstern yelled, his voice echoing into nothing as he waved his hands around. 

 

“Two-love,” Rosencrantz said, a bit quieter. His eyes sparkled though, and he looked ready to take on the challenge of a game of Questions with Guildenstern (Whether the poor man knew it was happening or not). 

 

“Do you  _ see  _ an audience?” Guildenstern waved wildly around him. 

 

“Am I supposed to?” 

 

“Why would you be supposed to see an audience that isn’t there?” 

 

“What if it  _ is  _ there?” 

 

“How could it be there if we’re the  _ only  _ ones here?” 

 

“Could they have  _ come  _ here?” 

 

“From  _ where _ ?” 

 

“What if they travelled from far away places?” 

 

“There  _ are  _ no far away places!” 

 

“Statement! Three, Love! Match!” Guildenstern fist-pumped the air, but Guildenstern seemed to ignore him. 

 

No wait. That was Rosencrantz. Rosencrantz fist-pumped the air, and ROSENCRANTZ ignored him!

 

No wait....

 

...

 

Fuck. 

 

Guildenstern... the bearded one! The bearded one was Guildenstern! Guildenstern huffed, looking out into the distance, “How could there be far away places if we all come from the same origin?” 

 

“Do you mean writing?” Rosencrantz provided hopefully. 

 

“What else could I mean?” Guil responded nonchalantly, lifting his hand from his beard for a moment and glancing at his seated companion. 

 

“You could mean Earth!” 

 

“Statement, one love.” 

 

“Ohhh,” Rosencrantz looked at his feet; Guildenstern smirked cockily for a moment before returning to his thoughts. Rosencrantz overcame his loss rather quickly, and perked up once again. 

 

“Could there be a far away place we did not know about before?” 

 

“How is that possible?” 

 

“Aren’t we simply human?” 

 

“So?” 

 

“Wouldn’t we have gaps in our knowledge?” Rosencrantz continued, standing now and walking to Guildenstern. Guildenstern nodded, accepting Ros’s logic, and then glancing to Gaster. 

 

“Where did you come from?” He addressed Gaster. Rosencrantz nearly jumped in excitement, staring intently at Gaster, who shrunk under the duo’s gazes. 

 

“Uhh... Earth?” 

 

“Statement! That’s not a real question! One Two Love!” 

 

“You either come from Earth, or you don’t; which is it?” 

 

“I come from earth!” 

 

“Statement! Two Three Love! Match to Rosencrantz!” Rosencrantz cried out, motioning toward his bearded companion. 

 

“Guildenstern.” Guil corrected. 

 

“Guildenstern!” Rosencrantz parroted. Gaster just looked at you, crying for help with his eyes. You just smiled. When faced with these two, unless you were Hamlet, there was no winning. 

 

Guildenstern turned back to Gaster, narrowing his eyes. “If you come from earth, and you are not writing, then how are you here?” 

 

“I...” Gaster paused, looking over at Rosencrantz, who was practically holding his breath. Gaster thought  for a moment, and rephrased his statement to a question. “Am I supposed to know how I’m here?” 

 

Rosencrantz deflated; Guildenstern just hummed before continuing, “Are you dead?” 

 

“Am I  _ dead?”  _ Gaster recoiled, appalled at the blunt question. 

 

“‘Rrrrreppitition! One one love!” Rosencrantz exclaimed, pointing at the sky. 

 

“How could you exist here and there at the same time unless you were dead?” Guildenstern got closer to Gaster, staring him down. 

 

Gaster’s eyes widened, and he looked around, “Is here where people go when they die?” 

 

“Where  _ else  _ would they go?” Rosencrantz asked matter of factly. 

 

“I had no idea,” Gaster breathed. 

 

“Statement! Two Two Love!” 

 

“Are you dead?” Guildenstern repeated, staring pointedly at Gaster. 

 

“Repetition! Three Two One Match! 2-0-0! I’m doing well today!” Rosencrantz chittered. 

 

“I don’t believe I am,” Gaster responded to Guildenstern, who was patiently patting Rosencrantz’s shoulder. 

 

“Then!” Guildenstern exclaimed, turning away from Gaster. Rosencrantz looked over to his partner, raising an eyebrow as Guildenstern. “You must have come from  _ another  _ source!” 

 

“You really suck at this game,” Rosencrantz addressed Gaster. 

 

“An unknown source,” Guildenstern continued as Rosencrantz patted Gaster’s shoulder. 

 

“Another author?” Rosencrantz turned to Guildenstern, “Not Tom Stoppard?” 

 

“No no, not him. Not any.” Guildenstern turned to Gaster, “You are not a  _ character _ , are you?” 

 

“I-.... No?” 

 

“Then why are you here?” 

 

“I’m.... stuck?” 

 

“How.” Rosencrantz asked. 

 

“I... had an accident.” 

 

“And?” Rosencrantz egged

 

“I got stuck here?” 

 

“How!” Guildenstern yelled angrily.

 

“I had an accident??” 

 

“And?” Guildenstern egged on. 

 

“I... got... stuck... here?” 

 

“How?” Rosencrantz asked again, eyes alight with mischief. 

 

“I... had an acci-” 

 

“It doesn’t matter!” Guildenstern interrupted, pacing now, “What matters is that you  _ are  _ here, you are  _ stuck  _ here, and you  _ shouldn’t  _ be here. What matters is finding why you are  _ here  _ specifically,” He motioned toward the ground, and then motioned away from everything, “And not  _ there _ , and how to get you from  _ here  _ and not  _ there  _ to THERE, and not  _ there _ or  _ here _ .” 

 

“I... what?” 

 

“Why are you  _ here _ .” Guildenstern demanded of Gaster, who was nearly hyperventilating now. 

 

“I’m stuck,” He answered again, only receiving an exasperated sigh from Guildenstern. 

 

“No, that is why you are here, but why are you  _ here!”  _ He demanded again, pointing to the ground below Gaster. “You could be there!” He pointed to the distance, “Or there!” He pointed somewhere else, “or there!” A third place, “But you are not. You are  _ here _ .” He pointed to the ground, and then narrowed his eyes. “Why.” 

 

“Uhh,” Gaster stammered, and his eyes shot to you. You were rather amused at this point, watching Gaster flounder in such extremes was uncharacteristic and rather humerous. When Gaster paid you attention, though, so did Guildenstern. 

 

“Is it  _ her? _ ” He asked, whipping around and marching toward you. You hastily stood, not looking away from Guildenstern as his eyes scanned over your person. “Are you  _ here  _ because of  _ her?”  _

 

“I... yes?” Gaster said, and you nodded in agreement. 

 

“He’s with me.” You said. 

 

“How can he be with you if you’re not here?” Rosencrantz pitched in, sounding utterly confused. The three of you turned to him, each parroting a-

 

“What?” 

 

“Well?” Rosencrantz blinked, backing up an inch, “She’s not here! She’s  _ there!”  _ Rosencrantz said, looking guilty and slightly frightened. He quickly calmed down, though, when Guildenstern grunted in agreement. 

 

“That’s  _ right! _ ” He concluded, looking back to you. “ _ You  _ threw the bottle!” 

 

“Uhh. Yes.” 

 

“So you’re THERE!” He pointed to the empty space, and you had a feeling he was talking about Earth. 

 

“Uhh. Yes?” 

 

“But you’re  _ here _ .” Guildenstern frowned. 

 

“Wow!” Rosencrantz yelped. 

 

“But you can’t be-” 

 

“You can be-” 

 

“At two places at the same time!” Guildenstern accused. 

 

“At two places at the same time?” Rosencrantz pondered.

 

“Uhh,” You floundered, eyes flicking to Gaster, whose smug grin at your floundering seemed vaguely familiar. Oh yeah. You were giving him the same face 3 seconds ago. 

 

“A SYLLOGISM!” Guildenstern shouted, stepping away from you and pacing now. “One. If you are  _ there _ , then you cannot be  _ here _ . Two. You are t _ here _ . So! You cannot be  _ here.” _

 

“But-” 

 

“A syllogism to Parallel. One. If you are Here, then you cannot be There. Two. You are Here. So, you cannot be there.” Guildenstern paused for a moment, staring at the sky before continuing, “And finally, a syllogism to the second and third! One. If you are not  _ here,  _ or  _ there _ , then you must not exist.” He turned to you, “You! Are not here, OR there. Therefore, you must not exist!” 

 

“I take offense to that,” 

 

“Let me continue, you’ll take solace once i’m finished. Final syllogism. The third, if you remember correctly; One. One that exists and doesn’t exist simultaneously must either follow different rules, or exist  _ differently  _ than the rest. An anomaly, if you will. Therefore, as you do and do not exist,” He paused, looking you up and down, “Then you are the independent variable, possibly something that exists  _ outside  _ or  _ between  _ the Here and the There.” 

 

“Just as Stoppard was!” Rosencrantz pitched in finally, excitedly. 

 

“Exactly!” Guildenstern announced, turning to Rosencrantz, who was practically bouncing up and down. 

 

“So she’s resilient!” 

 

“Exactly!!” 

 

Wait. 

 

“Wait.” You said, eyebrows scrunching. Gaster seemed to follow your sentiment as he took a step forward, stepping between Ros and Guil, facing you but looking at Guil. 

 

“How did you know she’s Resilient?” He questioned, eyes narrowing. 

 

“It’s simple!” Guildenstern answered, “There are only a handful of people that can do the impossible or nearly impossible. The Determined, and the Resilient.” 

 

“Determined people never fall down! It’s practically impossible, actually!” Rosencrantz provided, “For those with determinate qualities, Time bends for their will!” 

 

“But Resilient people fall down and almost always get back up,” Guildenstern continued, “For those with resilience, Space bends for their will.” 

 

“Time and Space,” Gaster breathed, as if that one sentence meant so much more than repeating what the duo just said. Silence fell over the four for a moment before Guildenstern sprang back into action. 

 

“SO!” He exclaimed, making all but Rosencrantz jump. 

 

“Yes?” Rosencrantz asked. 

 

“Let me get this straight,” 

 

“You might well ask.” Rosencrantz prattled in response. Guildenstern turned to Gaster. 

 

“You had an accident.” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“You wind up here.” 

 

“In the flesh!” Rosencrantz answers for Gaster. Guildenstern nods, and continues. 

 

“In an attempt to escape, you reach  _ blindly  _ and  _ wildly  _ for the intangible thoughts of the minds surrounding you!” Guildenstern’s voice gets louder and quicker now; he steps away from Gaster, instead listening to the response coming from Rosencrantz. 

 

“It was a horror!” Rosencrantz bawls, covering his face with the crook of his elbow and fake-crying. 

 

“And every mind you reach for  _ recoils  _ and  _ retreats  _ from your needy hands-” 

 

“I couldn’t grasp a thing!” Rosencrantz weeps. 

 

“And you’re left alone-” 

 

“SO alone!” He wailed. 

 

“In this nothingness,” 

 

“It’s nothing to cry about,” Rosencrantz stops his crocodile tears, pondering.

 

“Trying to grasp at  _ something _ -” Guildenstern continued. 

 

“Anything is nothing to cry about, if you think about it, because-” 

 

“And you thought-” 

 

“We all die some day! Why does anything matter?” 

 

“This is pointless!” 

 

“But!” Both Guildenstern and Rosencrantz said at the same time, holding up fingers and then turning on Gaster. 

 

“Something  _ does  _ matter!” Rosencrantz continued, a wide smile forming on his lips. 

 

“You found the  _ one  _ thing that could make a difference in your predicament!” Guildenstern continued to pace again. 

 

“Something that  _ always  _ makes a difference!” 

 

“You found someone-” 

 

“A friend!” 

 

“Who could take your assaults on their mind, and bounce back.” 

 

“A resilient friend!” 

 

“Someone who could successfully host you in their mind, and become a bridge between Earth and Here.” 

 

“You sure are lucky!” Rosencrantz pat Gasters shoulder with a wide smile. 

 

“Lucky indeed,” Guildenstern mused, looking over at you. You were speechless, still trying to wrap your mind around their speech. Gaster blinked a few times, and then smiled at you proudly. 

 

“There really aren’t many resilient ones, to be honest,” Guildenstern continued, looking you up and down. “A rare species, indeed.” 

 

“I’m lucky to call one my friend.” Gaster said. 

 

“You’re lucky to have  _ found  _ her,” Guildenstern corrected him, walking over to you and grabbing your chin. You almost protested, but his touch was gentle in it’s methodical, doctoral movements. “She’s the only hope you have of  _ escaping  _ this realm.” 

 

“Uhh,” you said, looking at Guildenstern with raised eyebrows. He hummed, letting you go. 

 

“Yes!” He announced, “The only way to escape is to use the bridge provided for you!” 

 

“How convenient that it’s right there!” Rosencrantz laughed, and then perked his ears up. “I say, do you hear drums?”  

 

Oh. Oh no. The drums! If your memory of the story line of R&G are Dead was correct, (and it was), then the drums meant your time was nearly out! 

 

“Yes, convenient,” Guildenstern mused, frowning, “But what would stop Here from pulling our skeletal companion back to it’s cold grasp? If it were that easy, then Dr. W. D. Gas would not be here right now.... No...” 

 

“They’re getting louder!” 

 

“No,” Guildenstern looked at you, nodding his head, “Listen carefully, Rosencrantz!” He addressed you. You nodded. “If you want to save you friend-” 

 

“Here they come! I say! It looks like an acting troupe!” 

 

“You must break the bridge!” 

 

And they were gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath* 
> 
> What could that meeeaaaannn???? 
> 
> I'll give you a hint. there are two correct answers. 
> 
> I'm curious. What do YOU think?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oodles and oodles of thanks to Its-a-snowdecahedron for being my fantastic beta reader.
> 
> I love them.

He called Sam. 

 

What else was he supposed to do? You had tossed a bottle at a door, and dropped like a sack of potatoes! You shook and rattled for nearly a minute and a half, and then you fell still, but you didn’t wake up. 

 

He panicked! 

 

So now he was seated awkwardly at the kitchen table, Sam across from him, you still passed out on the couch. The silence between the two was deafening. 

 

A cough, a shuffle; Sans scratched his chin. 

 

“This isn’t your fault,” Sam said for the umpteenth time, but it sounded less like Sam was comforting Sans, and more reminding themself that he was not to be murdered. Nearly in the same way Sans had to remind himself that  _ you _ were not to be murdered. But as the first hour passed by and you were still motionless, it became harder and harder to contain his frustration. 

 

You did this to yourself!  _ You gave yourself a seizure!  _ He clenched his fist; gnashed his teeth. You were reckless! Why would you do that? Did you have a death wish? 

 

A sigh from across the table drew Sans’s attention. His eyes flicked up to meet Sam’s. 

 

“Was she acting odd before she did this?” 

 

“I already told you, she got really exci-”

 

“Yes, yes, but is there anything  _ else?  _ Did she say anything out of the ordinary? Did she have a glazed loo-” 

 

“No. Nothing out of the ordinary.” 

 

“But she didn’t take her medication today.” 

 

“Nope.” 

 

A sigh. Sam glanced into the living room, where you still lay motionless on the couch. “She’s not normally  _ this  _ dumb,” Sam defends you, eliciting a small chuckle from the skeleton. 

 

“No, not  _ this  _ dumb,” he repeats; his laugh is somewhere between minor amusement and stark panic. 

 

“Something must have happened in her mind,” Sam explained to themself. Sans nodded. 

 

“I don’t doubt it.” 

 

“But that’s not a reason to force a seizure!” 

 

“We’re in agreement on that fact.” 

 

“God DAMNIT!” Sam finally yelled, slamming their hands into the table. It rattled under their fists, and Sans swore he heard something snap. He would have been more concerned if he weren’t distracted by the tears streaming down Sam’s face. He faltered, breath catching as he watched Sam swipe at their face angrily and then look at him, despair painting their face. “She’s going to  _ kill  _ herself, Sans!” Sam whimpered, voice cracking. “I’m going to get a call from you one day that she just up and died, and I can’t  _ do  _ anything about it!” 

 

“Well,” Sans floundered, stumbling in front of this tiny human. They were so small, and normally so composed, serious. Sans remembered laughing at the stark comparison between your chipper smile and happy-go-lucky demeanor and Sam’s calculated gaze and stalwart loyalty. He was pretty sure the only time he’s seen them smile was when looking at or talking with you. And now this human, this person whose conversations he’s had with could be counted on his fingers, was weeping in front of him, tossing their head onto the table and pawing at the tears pouring down their cheeks and dribbling at their chin. 

 

Sans realized two things at the same moment. The first: Sam loved you more than he thought was possible. It probably rivalled his love for Papyrus; based on how the two of you conversed, he wasn’t surprised by this realization. The second: you really  _ were  _ in danger of dying, if you kept going down the path you were going. How you carelessly threw yourself into circumstances was going to  _ kill  _ you, and just like Sam, Sans couldn’t think of anything he could do to stop it. 

 

He was surprised you were alive even  _ now.  _

 

“I....” With this information, he realized he couldn’t console Sam. He suffered from the same concern that they did; you were on an unstoppable path of self destruction, and no matter what he said, you still barrelled forward, throwing yourself  at every dangerous opportunity to save someone. He felt frustration bubble in his chest. He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “I know,” he finally said, “It’s painful to watch.” 

 

“It’s horrible!” Sam choked out, “I’ve tried  _ so  _ many times to tell her how much she’s worth, how much she means to everyone, how if she threw her life away, that we’d all miss her, but it’s like she doesn’t even  _ hear  _ it!” 

 

“Mmm,” Sans agreed, looking over at the couch. You were still out like a light. His eyes trailed back to Sam, who had also glanced at the couch. The look on Sam’s face had him double-take. Then smile. “You love her.” 

 

“Of _ course  _ I do! We’ve been in a relationship for  _ ages!  _ If I didn’t love her, I’d be pretty fucked up.” 

 

Pang. 

 

“Right. Relationship,” Sans half-mumbled, half mused, frowning. “Forgot about that tidbit.” 

 

Sam’s eyes flicked to Sans, speculative, and moments later, amused. They pawed the remaining tears from their face, and sniffled. “If you’re trying to hide your misgivings for that piece of information, you’re failing miserably.” Sam raised an eyebrow, the first smile in a while tickling the corner of their mouth. Their voice still shook, though. Sans blinked, realizing the bitterness present in his voice at the previous statement. Blue painted his cheeks as he looked shamefully away. 

 

Shit. He basically just admitted his romantic feelings to your partner  _ while _ your partner was confiding in you about their concern for your health. While you were out like a light on his couch. 

 

That’s it. He’s the biggest dick in all of Dick-dom. 

 

“Well,” Sans started, refusing to look at Sam. He stayed silent for quite a while, wondering how the  _ hell  _ he could dig himself out of this hole.  “She  _ is  _ a wonderful person,” He started. If he had ears, they would be burning. If he had looked at Sam, he would have seen them trying (with all their might) not to laugh. “You can’t help me being envious of you,” he said slowly, calculated. The sharp exhale of breath from across the table had Sans’s bones rattling a bit. He heard a shuffling, but ignored it.  _ “Anyone  _ would be lucky to have her as a partner. I guess I’m slightly upset that it’s not me.” He paused, “I don’t mind, though. You’re a very good partner for her.” 

 

Ka-chik! 

 

Sans jumped at the unexpected sound, and whipped toward Sam, who was holding their phone out and pointing it at him. “I never thought I would see a blue skeleton,” Sam said, voice flat, but carrying the slightest hint of amusement. “Now I’ve seen everything!” Sam continued; as they did, their calculated facade slipped. Their lips pulled upward, neck tensed. “You think... That she and I are  _ dating!”  _ Sam degraded into full-blown laughter, _ “Oh my god!”  _

 

Sans stared at Sam, trying to understand their words. Like cogs turning in chilled molasses, Sans’s mental processes tugged along, waiting for the moment that Gravity decided to help out. 

 

And then-

 

“But you said you were in a rela-” 

 

“Quasiplatonic, Sans.” 

 

“...huh?” 

 

“We’re zucchinis.” 

 

“Like..... The vegetable?” 

 

“Like the completely platonic, closer than friends relationship normally formed between but not limited to a grey or asexual person and another person of any varying orientation, signifying a relationship much more emotionally connected and intense than a friendship, but lacking in romance and eroticism.” 

 

“Woah. How did you say that all in one breath?” 

 

“Call it practiced,” Sam waved their hand dismissively, almost tired. “I have to explain it to a lot of people.” 

 

“Ah,” Sans replied, wheels turning in his head. “So.. does that mean...” he trailed off, hoping Sam would finish the thought. They did. 

 

“She’s demi.” Sam provided, twisting Sans’s face in confusion. 

 

“She’s  _ what? _ ” 

 

Sam only sighed, looking over at the couch regretfully. “ _ Why do they always ask me?”  _ She whispers with a groan. “Just ask her.” 

 

“Mmm,” Sans follows Sam’s eyes, and pauses when he sees you. 

 

You were awake. You weren’t moving, but he just  _ knew.  _ Everytime he looked over before, you were moving or shifting or  _ something  _ but now you looked stark still. He was sure that if he blinked to in front of you, you’d have wide eyes staring into nothing. Sam seemed to come to the same conclusion as Sans, and cleared their throat. 

 

“Just warning you that I’m here.” Sam said; you flinched, and then your chest rose and fell with a loud sigh. 

 

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?” 

 

“Yeah pretty much.” 

 

“Sans called you?” 

 

“What else was he supposed to do?” 

 

You hummed, breaking from your frozen state and sitting up. You stared at the black screen of the TV, scratching your chin for a moment. Sam sighed, standing up and walking over to you. Your head turned toward them, and you stood. They didn’t stop walking when they got to you, simply barrelling straight into your chest and wrapping their arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around them, resting your chin on top of their head. “I’m sorry,” you said, head heavy on their skull. 

 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Sam sighed, squeezing you harder. Guilt slithered down your throat, cold and slimy and curdling your stomach. You squeezed Sam back. 

 

“I know.” 

 

“You’re dumb.” Her hand, previously holding your close, lifted up half-assedly, whacking you on the back with the strength of a very small child. 

 

“I know.” 

 

“And stubborn.” The hand went back to holding you close, and the guilt choked you now. 

 

“I know.” 

 

“And you’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.” 

 

“That’s debatable.” 

 

“You’re not invincible,” Sam accused, voice venomous. 

 

“Weeell-” You trailed off, looking across the living room to the exposed dining room table, making eye contact with Sans. His eyebrows raised at your timing, and you took a breath in. You needed to talk to him. You were drawn from you exchange with Sans when Sam abruptly pulled away from you, holding you at arm's length and scrunching their eyebrows. 

 

“I’m serious!” They practically yelled, squeezing your shoulders. “You’re not!” They shook you a bit, panic evident on their face. You looked down at them, and blinked. Sam was really mad, but they didn’t understand what was going on. Of  _ course  _ they’d be mad; you just threw yourself into a seizure for no possible reason. You couldn’t explain it to them: Sam was always set in their ways. They wouldn’t understand, not until you had Gaster standing next to you. 

 

So you just smiled knowingly at Sam, tilting your head to the side a bit, “I know,” you said again, eyes going soft. “I know, Sam. Don’t worry.” 

 

“Don’t worry!” Sam scoffed, dropping your arms and looking away. You could almost see the smoke billowing from their ears. Their face twisted from pure rage to something more akin to giving up. Their shoulders dropped. “You know, you make it  _ really  _ hard not to just smack the shit out of you.” 

 

“I’d probably deserve it,” You replied guiltily, and Sam just scoffed again, nodding. The anger returned. It made you feel sick. They turned, walking away from you and into the kitchen. 

 

“Probably,” Sam didn’t even chuckle as they grabbed their bag from the table, and hefted it over their shoulder. “I’m leaving.” 

 

“Well that was fast,” you half-heartedly joked, but you knew Sam was mad. You knew they would leave. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes it’s the only thing that saves your relationship with them. You don’t have conversations while angry. Sam leaves, and when they’re ready, they come back to you to talk. You talk sans anger, and everything turns out fine. 

 

So when Sam’s only response to your comment was the loud “ka-THUNK!” of a slammed door, you were not surprised. 

 

Either way, you stood in the suffocating silence, gut wrenching and heart twisting. This one... Sam wasn’t going to come back and be able to get an explanation this time. You weren’t sure how it was going to end. 

 

“That person never fails to surprise me.” 

 

Oh. Right. You weren’t alone. You swallowed your misgivings, turning to stare at the blank TV again. 

 

“I’ve been their partner for over 7 years, and they still throw new ones at me,” you shrugged. 

 

“Mmm,” Sans replied; his voice came from the couch now. You returned to the warm embrace of the angel feathered cushions as well. “Quasiplatonic?” 

 

“They told you?” You asked, turning to look at him. He nodded. 

 

The elephant in the room would have probably trumpeted, if it were real. 

 

“Yeah,” you hummed, looking at the ceiling, glad that Sans was either respecting your decision, or too antsy to call you out on your stupid actions. 

 

“So you’re demisexual.”  

 

“They told you?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Ah.”

 

The elephant’s tail swished back and forth, whacking metaphorical flies from it’s ass. 

 

“What does that mean? Demisexual.” 

 

“Mmm,” you paused, sucking on your lower lip. “I don’t experience sexual attraction until an emotional bond is formed. I have to fall in love with someone’s personality before I find em’ physically attractive, basically.” 

 

“Huh,” Sans paused.  The elephant’s ears flapped back and forth. You expected a breeze, but received nothing. 

 

“Heh,” You continued, “You should see my track record. Sam says I have the weirdest tastes. It’s kind of expected, though...” You looked at Sans with a shrug, “If your attraction to someone is not based on their chest or genitals or jawline, you’ll have quite a wide variety.” 

 

“Wide variety,” Sans repeated, raising an eyebrow at you. You chuckle. The elephant joins in, and your laughs lose their depth. Nerves poke at your throat, and pull at your consciousness, reminding you. 

 

_ Break the bridge! Break the bridge!  _

 

_ Break the bridge! _

 

You knew what Guildenstern meant. 

 

“Well, 3,” you provided, wondering how your avoidance of that goddamn elephant has you spilling your romantic endeavors to this skeleton. You didn’t mind too much; it was better that him yelling at you. “Elizabeth, Max, and Andrew. Only Andrew lasted more than half a year, though.” 

 

“Why?” Sans questioned, obviously humoring you. His voice was clipped, though, and you knew that he was growing tired of the elephant’s stench. 

 

“I learned I was demixeual with Elizabeth. After a couple of months of dating, her real personality showed. I.. uhh... lost attraction to her altogether.” You laughed. It sounded forced, “It was the weirdest feeling, wondering how someone you saw as Aphrodite could suddenly look like a half-formed unborn satyr with a serious smoking habit in a matter of a month.” You reminisced. Elizabeth was beautiful after you got to know her. She smoked; and every time you saw the curls of white billowing around her head, you couldn’t help compare it to the clouds that gods rested on. And then her personality twisted. She was shallow, rude, uncaring. Selfish. And the smoke soured, turned to a sickening gray that sunk in her eyes and yellowed her teeth and wrinkled the skin you once worshiped. 

 

“That’s really... descriptive.” 

 

“I couldn’t even stand to look at her, eventually,” You frowned, trailing into awkward silence. Finally, Sans coughed, shifting a bit. 

 

“Max?” He asked, and you hummed. “Is this the same one-”

 

“Yeah,” you laughed, “that lasted two days.” 

 

“Two days!” He breathed. 

 

“I thought I was attracted to him. I thought I should have been, since we’d been friends for so long.” 

 

“....and?” 

 

“I wasn’t.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

“He wasn’t either, though. We kinda went on a date, held hands. He kissed my cheek.” You shrugged, “nothing.” 

 

“Hmm. Your love life is pretty uneventful.” 

 

“I’m still on the asexual spectrum, y’know.” 

 

“Mm, yeah. What about Andrew?” 

 

And suddenly, that elephant looked much more appetizing than the current conversation. 

 

“So I met with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.” 

 

“.....” Sans blinked, looking at you, recognizing that you acknowledged the elephant, and finally letting his anger mirror Sams. He was silent, though. 

 

“They were in the world of Infinite Potential.” You continued. You could hear the hum of the fridge from two rooms away. Sans remained silent, and you knew he was still waiting for a reason for your sins that he could accept. You swallowed, feeling the pressure on your chest again. He wouldn’t like it. He wasn’t going to like it. It was only going to make him angrier. You took a shaky breath. 

 

“I think they gave me the answer.” Your breaths felt heavy, the information chucked at you finally crashing into your chest. 

 

Sans remained silent, a judging figure only holding your breath tighter. He deflated, though, as he saw your shoulders begin to shake. 

 

You felt a hand on your knee; the soft caress on your kneecap snapped something in your soul. It shattered the disbelief held firmly in your chest, and dissolved the invisible barriers that kept the tears from cascading down your cheeks. 

 

“I have to die!” You blurted, and never have words shaken your soul so seriously. 


	16. A Murderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Reader talk about Reader's mortal conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who'se back (back, back) 
> 
> back again (gain, gain) 
> 
> Cici's back! (back back) 
> 
> Tell a friend! ! !
> 
> also:   
> Define: dramatic Irony.

“We can figure this out,” Sans said simply, the lights in his eyes sharp. You were incorrigible. 

“It’s already been figured out.” 

“You’re being ridiculous-” 

“Am I, though?” 

“...”

You sat on the couch, shoulders tensed, staring Sans down. Anger pittered in his chest, choked him. “Am I?” You repeated, nostrils flared. Sans recoiled. “This has been my whole life for weeks now, Sans. I woke up in the hospital, and this has been it since!” Your hands flailed. “I nearly completely abandoned my college classes, I haven’t been going to the library...” Your arms relaxed, dropping to your sides, defeated. “My life right now is this couch and a million books and I finally find an answer and it’s death! Is it too ridiculous to be upset about it?” Your eyes were dim, but held a sense of stubbornness in them. Sam’s crying face flashed in Sans’s mind, and it only made him more angry. 

“There’s got to be another answer,” he tried. 

“There’s not.” The ice in your voice made him falter for a moment. Sans frowned. “I’ve been searching for weeks, nonstop! The only lead’s i’ve gotten is Determination and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.” 

“Determination could work.” 

“No.” You frowned, “Guildenstern gave me the answer. I’m taking that one. We don’t know what the Determination would do to me.” 

He could almost see you slipping away. Like he could predict the future, he saw you tossing your life away; he saw Gaster returning, maybe taking control of your dead body, making it his own, calling Sans “Son.” And that image was gone, replaced with only the image of your lifeless eyes boring into his soul, whispering of what could have been if he just... if he just... If he just did something! 

“Let me try it.” 

“Sans,” you warned, eyebrows scrunching. “No. We don’t know-” 

“It won’t hurt to try.” Sans interrupted, leaning forward a bit. “Just let me try.” 

“There's no proof that it’ll do anything. It’ll just be a waste of resources.” He saw your shoulders tense, could almost taste the stubbornness in the air. 

“You don’t know that.” He matched your intensity, frowning. “It could override your Resilience, and-” 

“Sans!” your volume surprised him a little, but the sharpness of your voice is what made him fall silent. If he had lips, they would be pursed. “I’ve done my own research. You’ve been working and doing your own stuff and I’ve been here. I can make my own decisions. I can handle thi-” 

“Obviously, you can’t!” Sans snapped, hands tensing. You recoiled, surprise flitting across your features before they settled on anger. 

“Sa-” 

“If your solution to everything is to try and off yourself, then you obviously can’t handle this on your own!” Sans barrelled forward, refusing to let you talk. He had to get this in. He had to get it through your head!

“You don’t think I’m not upset about this?” Your eyebrows furrowed, lips pulled down, twisting into disgust. It infuriated him, to see the one he found so beautiful to be so disgustingly blind. 

“No!” Sans yelled now. He saw you flinch, saw your grimace pull back until he could see your teeth. Still, he refused to relent. “You’re NOT upset about this!” His arms flailed, “If you actually understood what you were saying, you’d be a lot more upset than just... just.... That!” He gestured to your entirety. “This is DEATH we’re talking about!” 

“It’s for the greater good, though!” You finally leaned forward now, volume matching his. 

“IS it?” Sans accused. The world fuzzed around the edges a bit as he glared at you. “Is it really?” 

“YES!” You shouted, hands raised. He heard something soft, a “chk chk chk.” “Think about what Gaster could do for the world, and compare it to me!” Your expression faltered for a moment, twisting into something akin to shock and disappointment for merely a millisecond, and then it was gone wish a shake of your head, as if you were trying to dispel thoughts that weren’t yours. “He’s so much more important than me!”

 

“He’s not!” Sans raised his volume to go past yours, and everything but you faded to black. He recognized it almost immediately as he felt a fury, a righteous fury, overtake him. It wasn’t unlike when he faced Chara, standing in front of the abomination with the vindication of a thousand pounds of dust resting heavily on his shoulders. Now, though, the dust did not exist. No, his fury was his own. You sat in front of him, anger burning in your eyes, chest glowing, soft green lines filling out behind you as the ever-familiar confrontation screen took shape. 

He judged you not for Monster Kind, but for himself. He couldn’t stop it; your chest glowed for him, a beacon tearing from your core, the rich emerald color forming a heart in front of him.

Your stubbornness infuriated him; it was a blaring flaw that was going to kill you. It was a horribleness that ate you away, a beast. It was the flaw that tainted you in a way that Chara tainted Determination with domination. It was the trait that had the potential to twist the beauty of your soul into something wicked, unforgiving, destructive. “You’re just as important as him!” Sans seethed at you, watching your soul pulse, wondering if your ignorant stubbornness had already gripped your soul in an unchangeable way. 

“LIAR!” You screeched. You jumped from your seat next to him as if it was fire, facing him with burning eyes. The world was completely black for Sans, but he could still see you standing in front of the couch, yelling at him, your soul burning with a fire that almost hurt. Numbers swam below your heart, stats appearing quicker than he was able to look away. 

Attack: 3

“HOW can I just as important as him?” You accused, “I’ve done nothing for this world! I’ve helped no one! I’m some shitstain of a human thrown onto this world to just take up space!” 

Defense: 2

“I can’t save one person, I can’t pass any classes, I can’t figure out the solution to one problem without someone who doesn’t even exist helping me...” 

HP: 273

“And now I’m given the chance to actually make a difference in the world, and you’re telling me I’m too important to take it? What are you, the ultimate judge or something?” You hollar angrily, face twisting. Sans wanted to yell back at you that yes, he was the “ultimate judge.” That that was literally his job, but he suddenly couldn’t find his words. You stood there, quivering in anger, face scrunching more and more as seconds of silence crawled by with him just staring blankly at her, face frozen in shock, anger, horror. He vaguely registered your soul flicker, and then grow dim. You took a deep breath, letting it seep through your teeth as you ran a finger through your hair. You looked away, toward the ceiling, and then released the remaining air in an angry huff. Your eyes twitched; you blinked rapidly for a few moments, and clutched at your elbows. Dust settled on the tension in the air. 

He couldn’t find his breath. He couldn’t find anything other than that final stat flickering into view. 

Level: 2

“I’m leaving,” You almost whisper, voice low enough that Sans barely registered that you even spoke. As you take a step toward the door, though, his gaze flickers upward. The emerald green of your soul so easily blinks into dark blue; you freeze where you stand, and he knows you’re struggling to stay upright. 

“Y o u ‘ r e n o t g o i n g a n y w h e r e.” Sans growls; the darkness of his voice would have frightened even him if he weren’t used to it. He watches your shoulders tense, knows he got through to you when you stand, completely frozen, soul pulsing with every presumably exhilarated, rapid heartbeat. He begins walking toward you, around you, to see your face. He expects Chara in your eyes. You’re level two; he has no explanation for that. You, sweet you, willing to throw yourself into a fire to save a life, and yet with a level of violence he’s only seen on murderers. A part of him wants to just ignore it, count it off as some sort of fluke, rationalize that there's some explanation besides the obvious, but another part tells him that there’s a murderer in his house. That there was a murderer in his house that was so good at lying that he had fallen in love. So of course he expected you to turn around and show some true color of yourself that you had hidden so perfectly, now released by the coldness of his voice. 

What he doesn’t expect, and slightly berates himself for not expecting, is the stubborn glare shooting in his direction. He doesn’t expect you to, without ever breaking eye contact, take a step forward, against his magic. He doesn’t expect the second, or the third, or the way your hand lands heavily on the front door’s handle, and twists it aggressively, pulling the door open. He didn’t expect Papyrus standing on the other side of the door, hands full of grocery bags. He doesn't expect the inky blackness of the confrontation mode that saturated everything to shatter as your eyes broke contact with his, and looked at Papyrus. The magic faded almost immediately, releasing your soul from his grasp as Papyrus warily took a step to the side, letting you pass. Papyrus stooped through the door, watching with wide eyes as you walk down the single step outside of the house, and stopped. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice clipped. Then you...

Just walked away. 

“BROTHER,” Papyrus says long after you had left their sight. Sans says nothing. “BROTHER,” Papyrus repeats, “IS SHE COMING BACK?” 

“i hope not,” sans finally replies, and then closes the door.

“BUT...” Papyrus frowned, looking at Sans. “SHE MAKES YOU SMILE!” 

“She’s a murderer, Pap.”   
_____________  
_____________

Why did everyone think they had the right to tell you what you were worth? 

You knew what you were worth. 

You stuttered. 

Do you really, dear? I believe, if it were up to you, your worth would be in the negatives. 

You huffed for a moment, taking a random turn, still walking as far from Sans’s house as possible. You were angry. You were furious. 

You’re being ridiculous. Gaster unhelpfully added; you ignored him. Fuck them all. Fuck all of it. 

Fuck.... 

...

You found yourself sitting down on the curb, dropping your head in your hands. You just wanted to do something right... for once in your life, you wanted to help people who deserved it. 

Sans and Papyrus deserved their father. And you could give them their father! You really could! But Sans...

You sniffled. 

You wanted him to hug you. To be just as shocked as you, to tell you that he’d help make the last moments of your life worth-while, and then he would remember you. You wanted him... you wanted him to make this decision easier. You were having a hard enough time trying to convince yourself, and then he has to be so adamantly against it... ! 

You huffed through your nose, blinking a few times to stem off tears. You didn’t want to die... You knew you should want to, what with you being so useless, but... Sam’s smiling face, Max’s worried stares, Sans and his cringe-worthy puns, Papyrus’s big hugs. Shitty movies and good books, mac and cheese. You almost blubbered at that; you didn’t want to die because of mac and cheese! 

“You know, almost crying on the side of the road can bring up a lot of concerns for random passerby’s.” A figure plopped down next to you, their voice patient and joking at the same time. You blinked, and realized that yes, you were in fact crying. You blubbered, wiping your tears quickly and turning to look at the stranger. They gave you a wide smile, black hair bobbing on either side of their face. You blinked; their eyes were so blue! 

“Uhh,” you managed, “Sorry..I..uhh...” 

“You don’t have to explain, if you don’t want to,” the stranger said, leaning back till their rested on their elbows on the sidewalk, looking at the sky. “I just can’t really walk past someone blubbering outside my house. 

“Oh!” You whipped around, looking at the house behind you guiltily, “I’m so sorry!” 

“It’s fine! Damn, it’s not like you’re on my property or anything, I was just saying. Geez.” 

“Still,” you mumbled, wiping your eyes again. “I’ll leave, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t leave on my behalf,” the person said nonchalantly, sniffling and wiggling their nose as if they had an itch. “It’d be quite a shame, not being able to get to know the one and only you.” 

You paused, scrunching your eyebrows together. “The... what?” 

“Yeah, I recognize you,” They grinned in your direction lazily, “You’re the one that ran in the fire to save Tooth’s life, right?” 

You fell still, eyes wide. “Uhh...I...” You didn’t know how to react to someone so lazily bringing up your...failure... 

“How could I not know your face? I was there when you were brought into the hospital!” They pressed onward, confusing you further. 

“Were you a...” 

“A doctor? Hell fucking no. I couldn’t be a doctor in a million years!” They laughed, almost as if you weren’t just crying on their sidewalk mere seconds ago. “Those aren’t my kind of instruments, although i’m sure a couple syringes and some of those metal tins in doctor offices could make for some nasty beats.” They laughed again, getting lost for a moment in their thoughts, “No, I’m one of those entertainers... you know, the ones hired to keep kids happy and stuff?” 

“...yeah...” you mumbled, wondering how you had gotten dragged into this person’s little world. They grinned. “Yeah The whole hospital was a riot that day, what with the whispers of, ‘the crazy human who ran into a fire to save a monster!’ heh. I don’t think I saw one frowning face that day, cept for the doctors trying to save your life, maybe. Everyone was amazed!” 

“Amazed...” You repeated, looking off into the distance, imagining doctors walking around the corridors of the hospitals, whispering to each other. ‘Did you hear? The human in that room... they risked their life for a monster!’ 

“Yeah, quite amazed, actually!” The stranger laughed, “You caused quite a stir in there... The monsters who were working there had been losing a lot of their hope in the past few months, what with so many monsters coming in with hate-related injuries...” They glanced over at you with a softer smile, “I think you reminded them that not all humans are shit-bags. Heh. Made my presence there a lot easier too!” 

“I... brought them... hope?” You whispered, imagining doctors and patients smiling at the thought that someone risked their life for a monster. You huffed. 

“Yeah! When the night announcements went around, and the whole place heard you were gonna live, I don’t think even my best songs could have made that place any happier. Nope. Physically impossible to go past that level of happiness!” 

“Hah!” You laughed, “They were happy I lived?” 

“Overjoyed!” The human joined in your joviality with a soft smile. “It was only moments later that they were all making plans to donate magic to make special scar-medicine for you. Shit, I wanted to donate too! Too bad I’m not a monster,” they snapped their fingers, swinging their arm across the front of their body and shaking their head. You could feel the tears streaming down your cheeks before you realized you were crying again. The stranger, completely unsurprised, sat up again and placed a hand on your shoulder. “They really needed you that night, the doctors.” The stranger said with a soft smile. “There aren’t enough nice people in this world. And I think...” Their hand brushed over your spine, and patted right where the soft heart rested on your skin, underneath your shirt. “I think, if the rumors are true, and there is a little yellow heart right here, that anyone blessed to call you a friend will have a happy life.” 

You looked over at them, and they smiled knowingly. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now,” they continued, “But you sounded like you needed to hear that.” 

“I.... I did...” You murmured, looking at your feet. You were important... to some people... maybe you were as important as Gaster in some ways? You made Sam happy. You made Max (worry a lot, but also) happy. You have made Sans smile on more than one occasion... Maybe you were being ridiculous...Guildenstern had told you that you needed to break the bridge, but he never said you had to kill yourself... Maybe there were other ways to do it. Maybe Sans was on to something with Determination. Maybe you just needed one of those epileptic procedures where they cut the synapses between your right and left brain... Maybe it would be okay to try some of those before you removed your ability to eat mac and cheese forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would make a huge comment on why i was gone for so long, but I believe it can be put into three words. 
> 
> School's FINALLY OVER! 
> 
> Uhh. 
> 
> So I'm back. 
> 
> Sorry... 
> 
> Also. Guesses on who said strange human is?


	17. Curbs, Strangers, and Alphys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for PTSD
> 
> Reader accepts an invitation to stay with an absolute stranger, and Sans and Alphys go to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quoting Moana*
> 
> I have no excuse. 
> 
> I'm sorry. 
> 
> *not quoting Moana anymore*
> 
> I'm lagging trash who'se trying really hard! I' msorrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyy!!! 
> 
> I'M NOT DEAD I'M JUST SLOW AS FUCK

“A...” Papyrus turned around, looking at the sidewalk that you had just disappeared down. His voice grew soft, disbelieving. “A murderer?” 

 

“No bones about it,” Sans continued, staring at the floor. How could he- you just- 

 

Stupid stupid stupid! 

 

“It must be a misunderstanding...” Papyrus nearly whispered, ducking under the door-frame, and softly closing the door behind him. His hands clutched the groceries like a lifeline as he looked to his brother. “Right Sans? Just a misunderstanding? She’s so nice!” 

 

“She’s level 2, Pap,” Sans felt a numbness overcome him. How was he supposed to handle this information? 

 

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! 

 

“How... is that... She can’t be!” Papyrus dropped the groceries to the ground, fists clenching and unclenching in confusion and betrayal. “She has to have some sort of explanation! I believe in h-” 

 

“There’s nothing to believe in but the truth, Pap!” Sans interjected, whipping around and walking to the couch. 

 

“THERE ARE ANOMALIES IN THE SYSTEM SOMETIMES!” Papyrus’s voice returned to it’s normal volume as he followed Sans to the couch. Sans pulled his phone out as he reached the couch, and he flipped it open as he sat down. 

 

“No there’s not.” Sans said, a weight resting on his chest. Numbness. 

 

Images of you, sweet you, coated in dust, hovering over the form of someone... 

 

He forced them away, tapping on Alphy’s number in his phone. “I don’t want you seeing her, Pap. She’s dangerous.” 

 

“SHE’S NOT THOUGH! I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!” Papyrus stood in front of Sans, frowning. 

 

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” Sans replied, voice hollow, “I just want you safe.” 

 

“SHE WOULDN’T HURT ME.” 

 

Sans twitched, looking up to Papyrus, his eye flaring in anger, but he stopped the moment he saw the budding tears in his brother’s eyes. Sans paused, voice stuck in his throat, and finally sighed, deflating. He sat down on the couch, “If... If I can prove to you that she’s dangerous, will you stay away from her?” 

 

Papyrus hesitated, a cacophony of thoughts fluttering across his face before he resigned himself. “I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU COULD, BUT IF YOU SOMEHOW COMPLETE THAT IMPOSSIBLE FEAT, I WILL CONSIDER DISTANCING MYSELF FROM THE HUMAN.”

 

“Will you stay away from her for a month while I find proof that she’s dangerous?” 

 

“NO!” 

 

“Papyr-” 

 

“NO IS NO, AND THAT IS FINAL! A MONTH IS A LONG ENOUGH TIME FOR FRIENDSHIPS TO COMPLETELY COLLAPSE! I DO NOT WANT TO RISK THAT. YOU HAVE A WEEK!” 

 

“...fine.” Sans sighed, finally hitting the call button, and holding the phone to the side of his head. 

 

Papyrus paused, watching Sans purposefully avoid looking at his brother. He sighed. “I’M GOING TO GO PUT THE GROCERIES AWAY!” 

 

“Ok...” 

 

Papyrus sighed, and walked away. Sans watched him go, and then returned his attention to his phone when he heard a stuttering greeting. 

 

“Hey Alph, you still got that Soul Analyzer?” 

 

____________________  
____________________

 

“So, uhh, you got anywhere to go, or are you just gonna camp out outside my house?” 

 

“Oh!” You stuttered, scrambling to get to your feet, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you. 

 

“I’m not saying it’s bad, i’m just askin, ya know?” They assured you with a soft smile. You returned it hesitantly. 

 

“Yeah, okay. I can call my friend... I’m sure they’ll-” you paused, realizing you were, once again, in the same goddamn position you were in when Sans invited you into his home. Sam and Max couldn’t house you... god damnit...

 

“They’ll...” the stranger repeated, trailing off with a small smirk, as if expecting your non-answer. Your eyes trailed to their sapphire-blue ones, and you gave them a guilty shrug. They laughed, and hoisted themselves up, turning around and offering their hand to you. Almost automatically, you took it, and they hefted you up as well. “You can stay with me for a few days till you...” They paused, frowning for a moment. “Why, exactly, are you sitting outside my house with nowhere to go?” They tilted their head a bit, inquisitive. 

 

Did they just invite you into their home before they even knew why you had nowhere to go? 

 

You burst into laughter, hugging your stomach as they just stood there looking guiltily happy. “You! Do you invite every sad person on your street into your home like this?” 

 

“Hey!” They burst out indignantly, “Not everyone! Just ones who I know I can trust!” 

 

“How do you know you can trust me, though?” 

 

“You mean, besides the fact that you threw yourself into a fire to save a monster, and ended up in the hospital with third degree burns and increased LOVE?” 

 

“...Yeah... besides that...” 

 

“You sound nice,” they said simply, heading toward their door with a hand motioning you to follow. You opened your mouth to ask what the fuck they meant by that, but finally shrugged, and followed them to their door. “So are you going to explain to me how your life lead you to my doorstep?” They asked, unlocking the door and stepping in. 

 

“You mean curbside.” You followed, watching as she took off her shoes at the entrance, and took off your own as well. They rolled their eyes. 

 

“Fine. Curbside,” they corrected themselves, walking to the couch. You, yet again, followed, plopping down next to them with a soft sigh. They chuckled, “So? Go ahead. Gimme the whole story.” You blinked, looking over at them with a puzzled eye. The way they said whole... They were looking at you with the most serious face... you swallowed, feeling like your entire person, every layer of who you were, had just been laid out in front of this stranger, and they were expecting you to read out the labels. 

 

You hesitated, your heart stuck in your throat. You looked anywhere but at the sapphire eyed beauty in front of you, until you felt a soft hand touch your knee. You looked at it, and then up at them, and only saw understanding in their eyes. 

 

You saw more than heard them take a deep breath in, and then retract their hand from your knee. Your eyes flicked back down to their hand, noticing the frayed sleeves that reached nearly to the tip of their thumb. You watched as they softly grabbed at the sleeve, and began pulling it back, revealing inch after inch of their arm. 

 

Nearly immediately, your chest collapsed. Staring at this stranger’s arms, tears poured from your eyes. You gasped and coughed. Your face burned but your body felt cold, your throat numb. Your vision faded near the edges, and all you heard was the pounding of your own heart in your ears, and the near blood-curdling wails ripping from your throat. Your hands reached out, trying to grab at anything, and you physically hurt everywhere. Like every part of you was burning, screaming to move and screaming to not move, and it felt everything like and nothing like a seizure as you collapsed forward into strangers waiting arms. You knew who they were, but you only saw dust. 

 

Dust. 

 

Dust. 

 

So much dust, everywhere. 

 

You looked at your hands, and all you saw was fuzzy ashen grey. 

 

Why was there so much dust!

 

Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I’m sorry!   
_______________  
_______________

 

“Y-you know, m-maybe you should j-just leave it be. She c-could be dan...dangerous...” 

 

“Alph, she’s not affected by her LOVE up at all. What if she doesn’t even think what she did was wrong?” 

 

“A-and you think sh-showing her her s-soul will make a diff-difference?” 

 

“No, I just have to show Papyrus her soul.” 

 

“W-why?” 

 

“To show him that her LOVE is at 2.” 

 

“S-sans, you know that won’t p-p-persuade P-papyrus of her g-guilt. He’ll s-s-still c-cling to the possibility of EV’s.” 

 

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Extraneous Values only happens in really rare, extremely specific occasions, and never in scales large enough to actually increase LOVE.” 

 

“W-what if it was a b-boss monster?” Alphys replied, her face growing serious. Sans faltered for a moment, but frowned either way.

 

“Still not enough, Alphys, you know this! One boss monster is only enough for half a level in EV’s.” 

 

“W-what about trauma? Humans h-have mental disorders that we’ve yet to categorize and add to the EV formula. It could be-”

 

“Are you DEFENDING her?” Sans snapped, magic flaring for a quick moment, causing Alphys to recoil. To Sans’s surprise, though, Alphys recovered rather quickly, a determination more akin to Undyne than Alphys painting itself on the little dinosaur’s face. 

 

“There have been instances w-where humans have increased L-LOVE withou-...” She paused for a moment, faltering at the icy glare from the skeleton in front of her. She steeled herself, taking in a quick gulp of air, “without having killed anyone... She could be like th-them...” 

 

“That kid was found to have murdered her entire family, Alphys, did you just conveniently forget that?” 

 

“N-not him!” Alphys nearly shouted back, causing Sans to take a half-step back. “S-someone else....” Alphy’s trailed off for a moment, looking anywhere but at Sans, her expression somewhere between livid and guilty. Sans sneered; was it so important that she prove the innocence of someone she didn’t even know that she’d lie to him? 

 

“Bullshit,” he spat. 

 

“Not bullshit!” Alphys immediately retorted, eyes snapping to Sans. “They’re level 5, Sans! Level 5, and never harmed a fly!” Her voice was loud, sure, and angry, as if Sans had attacked Undyne and not some nameless test subject. 

 

Sans bristled, and tossed up defensive walls, jabbing back at her. “How can you prove they never hurt anyone? They could just be a psychopath with great alibis!” 

 

“BECAUSE I WORK WITH THEM, SANS!” Alphys exploded, taking a step forward and jabbing a claw into his chest. Sans recoiled, taking a step back, shocked at Alphy’s outburst, but she just advanced on him further. “Every week, Sans, I g-go into the hospital to check the souls of the patients in the acute ward. Every week, I walk in there expecting drops in HP, expecting children to be dead, Sans! But every week, there they are, a LV 5 human saving lives!” Alphys flailed their hands through the air and retreated from Sans’s personal bubble, but remained stiff, claws balling into fists as she stared at anything but him, shaking lightly. “I haven’t ever seen that much hope in a death ward, and if you’re going to...” She paused, her anger morphing into grief, “if you’re going to tell me that that angel is a murderer, then I’d die by her violin bow any day!” She finally stopped, her breath heavy, scaled frills behind her face fanned out in aggression, fists clenching and unclenching. Sans remained silent, watching her entire frame rise and fall with her shaky breaths. 

 

It was a good 15 seconds of silence before Alphys spat out a hurried, “Sorry! I just-” She took another breath, letting it out slowly, her frills finally settling back into place. Sans remained silent, still shocked at her outburst to speak, and still trying to comprehend the information just provided to him. “LV isn’t as cold cut as we thought it was, Sans,” Alphys continued, much calmer now that she assumed Sans was actually listening. “Before, we thought someone’s capability to swallow violence was based solely on Execution points alone, but that’s not the case with adult humans.” 

 

Sans finally seemed to break from his stupor, head flicking to Alphys. “Explain...” He trailed off, his voice somewhere between inquisitive and impatient. Alphy’s eyes flickered to him for a moment, and then looked away. 

 

“We’re made of magic, and only magic.” 

 

“Duh.” Sans couldn’t help but interject, his impatience and anger still bubbling in his head. Alphys flinched. 

 

“Magic, w-whether we like to think of it or n-not, is a relatively s-solid state when speaking about ess...essence. If it weren’t, then w-we w-wouldn’t be able to maintain our indiv..individualities without latching onto a more... solid object. So the only w-way to change our s-soul is to l-literally absorb the s-souls of other-” 

 

“Alphys I’m not dumb. You’re teaching me preschooler-” 

 

“W-we thought Humans were the same way because we only ever had ch-children to study o-on.” Alphys interrupted Sans, wringing her claws together. Sans’s mouth audibly clicked shut, letting the small dinosaur continue. “Adult humans are d-different. Apparently, a human child’s b-brain is incapable of understanding the idea of d-death until age 4, and most kids d-dont g-grasp it until they hit age s-seven or eight. B-because of that, human children e-easily f-fall into the LV c-categories...

 

“B-but adult humans...” Alphys turned to Sans, trailing off for a moment, a look of horrified grief painted on her face. Sans frowned, confused by her emotions, but he took a step forward anyway, placing a hand on her shoulder. She coughed for a moment, taking a shuddering breath. She nearly whispered, “Sans, I’ve s-seen their brain scans... Trauma literally changes their material composition.” 

 

Sans stiffened, eyes widening. “What?” 

 

“Getting gravely wounded, getting emotionally ab-abused, s-starving, seeing someone d-die... It irreversibly alters the b-biological composition of their brain, th-thereby increasing their LV.” 

 

Sans’s fingers dug into Alphy’s shoulder, horror slowly creeping up his spine. “So if a human... sees someone die...” 

 

“Their LV will increase without any EXP needed, and their soul is forever damaged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrug*
> 
> *tear*
> 
> I literally made myself cry while writing this one. 
> 
> I get into my writing sometimes. 
> 
> TOOOOOOOOOOOTH

**Author's Note:**

> Buy me a coffee?   
> http://ko-fi.com/A1063X0


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